


Lab Rats

by jessiecrimefighter



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: All the romantic tropes, Awkward Bed Sharing, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fake Dating, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Mild Angst, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Sexual Frustration, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, fake engagement, this fic is just one cliche after another, undercover kissing, unwarranted jealousy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-04-18 13:04:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 107,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4706993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessiecrimefighter/pseuds/jessiecrimefighter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being stuck in a S.H.I.E.L.D lab with each other for years means that neither Leo Fitz nor Jemma Simmons have much experience dealing with dating or relationships. Now that they're out in the field their relationship is changing, and these inseparable best friends have no idea how to handle their growing attraction to each other. Posing as a couple on an undercover mission blurs the boundaries between them, so when they stumble upon a secret about two of their team-mates, Jemma thinks she’s discovered a logical, practical solution to their confused and frustrated feelings – a ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement. What could possibly go wrong?</p><p>AU set after the fall of Shield, but where the events of the end of Season 1 and pretty much all of Season 2 never happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Frustration

**Author's Note:**

> The idea behind this fic was that I wanted to do the 'friends with benefits' trope for Fitzsimmons, but I was worried it was maybe OOC for them to get into a arrangement like that, so I wanted to take the time to set that story up and make it a little more believable. This took longer than I expected, and as result the 'friends with benefits' element doesn't actually come into it until about halfway through! So the first 15 chapters or so (may be more or less as I need to do some editing and re-writing) can be considered Part One of this fic, which is actually based more on the 'fake dating'/'undercover fake couple' trope - because why the hell not work that in!

Endorphins surged through her body as Jemma flopped down on the mattress. Her heart was thudding in her chest, her legs were trembling and her breath was coming in fast shallow pants. Sweat dripped off her onto the mattress below. Her lips parted in a smile and she lifted her wrist to look at her biometric watch. She had just run 5 kilometres in under 25 minutes and her heart rate was 170. Feeling pretty pleased with herself, she pushed herself up off the mat and grabbed her towel, wiping off the damp silhouette she had left behind. She wiped down the handles of the treadmill as well, before taking a long drink. She gulped at her bottle so fast the water dribbled over her chin. She wiped it off and moved towards the door of the training room just as Trip was entering for his early morning workout.

“Good run?” he grinned at her.

“24 minutes, 37 seconds,” she gasped, placing her hand on her chest to try and stop her chest from heaving.

“Damn, girl!” Trip responded, as he lifted the towel from his shoulder and flung it down on the bench. “You’re on fire! All the hours you spend down here are paying off. I don’t know why you feel you gotta run so much though. That’s a hell of a lot of pent-up energy you’re burning.”

Jemma gave him a quick smile as she left the room. She hoped her exercise-flushed cheeks hadn’t gotten any redder as she thought about exactly what kind of pent-up energy she was burning up down here. “See you later, Trip!” she called, as she made her way down the hallway back towards the sleeping quarters.

She had just turned the corner when the door to Bobbi’s room opened. Hunter came out, pulling his shirt on, and Bobbi appeared in the doorway behind him, wrapped in a sheet. Jemma saw Hunter turn and lean towards her, cupping her chin with one hand as he gave her a slow lingering kiss. She felt a strange flutter of envy as she watched them. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been kissed like that. To be honest, she wasn’t sure she had ever been kissed like that. Suddenly all the hard work she’d put in on the treadmill seemed like it had gone to waste. She sighed heavily. Hunter glanced up at her as Bobbi closed the door behind him and Jemma held her hands up. “I didn’t see anything,” she whispered. He winked at her and grinned as he made his way down the corridor. She couldn’t help but think about how lovely it must be to have someone on the base that you could have regular sex with. This was the huge downside of living on a Shield base – the complete lack of any kind of personal life whatsoever. Dating wasn’t exactly easy when you were part of an illegal spy agency and living on a secret underground base. You couldn’t go out much, and even if you did, you wouldn’t be able to tell anyone your profession or where you lived. You’d never even be able to bring them back to your room. Not unless you were dating someone else on the base, and although Coulson tended to turn a blind eye, it was technically against protocol and could lead to a whole host of complications if you split up. Which Hunter and Bobbi did all the time, but at least they always got back together again.

Not for the first time, Jemma wondered how everyone else on the base coped with the… _frustration_. For her it was mostly running, working late, and a lot of cooking to take her mind off it. Even then she spent most nights alone in bed reading erotic fiction on her tablet. The trusty vibrator which had seen her through many dry spells at Sci-Ops - as well as the continuous one she’d experienced ever since she had joined Coulson’s team - was safely ensconced in her bedroom drawer, but even that hadn’t seemed to be enough for her lately. It wasn’t just an orgasm she was craving, it was the physical touch of another human being. There was a time, when Trip first joined the team, that she’d felt the stirrings of an attraction and thought something might happen with him, but he had seemed to back off for some reason. Which was just as well since her attraction had worn off once she’d really gotten to know Trip. He had become more like a big brother to her and the idea of anything else between them seemed unthinkable now.

She reached the women’s bathroom and grabbing a clean towel from the shelf, she toed off her sneakers and peeled off her clammy workout clothes. Flinging her towel over the top of a cubicle door, she stepped in underneath the shower and let the hot water soothe her aching muscles. It was heavenly. So much so that she tried very hard not to think about the idea of someone being in the shower with her - running his hands over her wet, naked body. She squeezed her thighs together. She felt like turning the cold water on herself, just to dispel these thoughts from her mind. They did nothing but get her agitated with no real release. What she tried not to think about most of all was the alarming propensity she had in these moments to picture a _particular_ person kissing her and touching her and…much, much more. She didn’t know where these thoughts were coming from; in ten years of friendship, this was an entirely new phenomenon and it felt shameful and inappropriate…and oh so tantalising. He would be the absolute worst person for her to do that with, they were best friends and lab partners, she had so much to lose by getting involved with him, and it wasn’t even as if he would ever think of her that way anyway. Especially when he had been so distant from her lately, whatever that was about, she thought sadly as she massaged shampoo into her hair. The whole notion was preposterous really. So why couldn’t she get it out of her head?

Down the hallway, Fitz lay back on his bed and sighed. He had just been about to head up to the kitchen to get some breakfast, when he had spotted Jemma going into the women’s bathroom in her skin-tight, clingy workout gear, damp with sweat and accentuating every curve. Her face was flushed and glowing, her skin was moist and her chest was heaving in a very intriguing way. Great. Just great. How the hell was a man supposed to work now, with that image seared on his brain? Ever since these thoughts about his lab partner had started last year, he had deliberately timed his morning ritual so that he could avoid meeting Jemma on her way back from her workout, but she seemed to be late this morning. He didn’t understand it, he saw Skye and Bobbi and May in their workout gear all the time and it was no problem – they didn’t affect him the way Jemma did. It was a nightmare. It was his responsibility to make and maintain the equipment that would save the lives of agents in the field; he couldn’t afford to lose focus. So there was only one way to deal with the effect the sight of her like that had on him, and he hated himself for it. He felt like some kind of pervert doing _that_ over a toilet whilst thinking about his best friend. She would be horrified and repulsed if she knew, she would never want to speak to him again. And he wasn’t even going to think about what she would say if she knew the dreams he was having about her. Every damn night. And so he went out of his way to avoid seeing her in her workout clothes, he looked away when she bent over in the lab, he would find a reason to have to work in the garage on days when she wore tight sweaters, he would somehow manage to turn every invitation to watch Doctor Who alone with her in her room into movie night in the living area with the rest of the team. And he was trying desperately not to think about the fact that she was naked in the shower right now. Fuck! Why did he think about that?! He thumped the back of his head on the bed several times, and reached for the box of tissues as he started to unzip his jeans. He was disgusted at himself. What kind of friendship involved lustful thoughts and frequent masturbation! If he still believed in God, as he’d been brought up to, he’d have believed he was going to hell.


	2. The Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz and Simmons receive surprising orders from Coulson.

“Fitzsimmons! Skye, Trip! I want to see you all in my office now,” Coulson called from the doorway of the kitchen.

The four agents looked at each other in confusion before getting up from the table where they had been sitting eating breakfast.

“Oooh, what did you four do? Are you in trouble?” Hunter crowed.

“No, he just decided to give us a break from the dishes,” Trip gibed. “You three can take care of this, right?” he asked, gesturing at the empty plates with a smirk. Hunter’s face fell; Bobbi rolled her eyes and flashed Hunter a withering look. Skye snorted.

“Fine, but you guys can clear up after dinner,” Mack retorted, as he stood and started lifting the plates off the table.

“Dinner’s a long time away, Mack.” Trip grinned at him. “Anything can happen before then.”

“Oh, don’t say that,” Jemma chided with a shudder. Fitz glanced at her in concern.

“I’m kidding, Jemma!” Trip laughed.

“I know, I just don’t like to be reminded of the dangerous and uncertain nature of the work we’re involved in,” she reprimanded him primly.

“Well, that’s the downside of it,” Trip conceded. “Sure is one hell of a ride though,” he grinned.

“Does anything ever get you down?” Skye asked incredulously.

“C’mon, girl!” Trip laughed. “If you’re not having fun, then what’s the point?”

“Anytime today, guys,” Coulson called again.

 

They all stood in Coulson’s office, gazing at a photograph of a middle-aged bald man on the screen. “Dr Maximilian Storch,” Coulson said.

“I’ve heard of him,” Jemma said.

“Wasn’t he that Shield scientist who disappeared?” Fitz asked.

“Along with an 0-8-4 and all his research on it, yes,” Coulson replied. “At the time it was believed that he had been kidnapped, but we later came to suspect that Storch had faked his own kidnapping, in order to steal the 0-8-4.”

“What was it, sir?” Fitz asked.

“No-one knows,” Coulson answered. “It was Storch’s job to figure that out. We believe he did, and that’s why he took it, along with all his data on the object. He went quiet for a time, but since Shield fell, he has resurfaced. We were worried he was working for Hydra, but we’ve been tracking his movements and his current destination is giving us perhaps even more concern. Dr Storch has just booked himself a flight to Malta.”

“Malta?” Skye asked. “Where Ian Quinn lives?”

“Precisely,” Coulson agreed. “And what’s really bothering us is the fact that Storch’s flight and his stay in a luxury hotel there have been paid for by a shell company that can be traced back to Quinn. We think he’s going there to sell this 0-8-4 to Cybertek. And that’s why you four are going to Malta.”

They all looked at each other. It seemed everyone was thinking the same thing – this was an unusual team for a mission. “You or May aren’t coming with us?” Skye asked Coulson.

“No,” he replied. “Both May and I have met Storch, he’ll recognise us. We don’t know when or where Storch is meeting Quinn, and we don’t know what the hell it is he’s selling him. So this needs to be an undercover op.”

Fitz and Jemma stared at each other in alarm. “Undercover, sir?” Jemma squeaked. “Us?”

“Yes. I need you and Fitz there to figure what this thing is and what it can do before you bring it back here. Skye and Trip will track Storch, stop the meeting from going ahead and retrieve the 0-8-4, and then hand it over to you two. In order to do so, the four of you are going to be posing as guests at the hotel. You’re going to be posing as two young couples on vacation together. We’ve managed to book you into rooms on either side of Storch’s for surveillance purposes – Skye and Trip, you’ll be in one room, Fitzsimmons in the other.”

“And we’ll be… _sleeping_ in these rooms?” Fitz asked in horror. “ _Together_?” Jemma cast him a bewildered and slightly hurt look.

“Yes, Fitz, that’s the whole point. You’re supposed to be a couple," Coulson answered drily.

Fitz’s eyes widened and he swallowed before lowering his head to fidget with the sleeve of his cardigan. Jemma watched him for a moment, before turning away to focus intensely on the screen in front of them.

“But if we’re going to be pretending to be on vacation, then we’re going to have to make it look legit, am I right, sir?” Trip asked, with a gleam in his eye. “I mean lounging by the pool, fruity drinks with umbrellas, hitting the beach, that kind of thing.”

Coulson gave him one of his little half-smiles and nodded. “My guess is that if Storch is staying at the hotel instead of at Quinn’s compound, then Quinn doesn’t want anyone to know why he’s there. Storch is booked there for several days, which means that he’s probably going to be posing as a tourist as well. So enjoy, guys. Go nuts! Mix business with pleasure, just don’t take your eyes off the prize.”

“What are you, a sports coach?” Skye asked drily. “You’re just going to speak in clichés now?”

“I’m sorry my briefings don’t have enough original material for you,” Coulson deadpanned. “For the next one I’ll make sure to speak entirely in iambic pentameter. But for now, if I were you, I wouldn’t sass the guy who's sending you on an expenses paid trip to a five-star hotel in Malta, just to intercept a scientist and steal his magic beans. Or whatever the hell he’s carrying.”

Skye flashed him a winning smile. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir, your briefings are extremely inspirational.”

“Alright!” Trip clapped his hands together. “Malta here we come! I’ll fire up the quinjet.”

“Not just yet,” Coulson intervened. “You guys aren’t leaving until early tomorrow morning. And you’re not going on the quinjet, where are you going to park it for several days without it being noticed? Even if it’s cloaked, somebody could walk into it, and that could start a whole thing. You’ll take the Bus instead, I’ve arranged for it to be kept in a private airport hangar.”

“We’re not going until tomorrow, sir?” Trip asked. “Storch doesn’t arrive until tomorrow. Also, you’re supposed to be on vacation, remember?” Coulson, said. “So you have to look like it. I think a little vacation shopping is in order beforehand – unless your wardrobes are full of shorts and Hawaiian shirts that you never get a chance to wear. God knows mine is,” he sighed regretfully. Everyone glanced at each other with mystified expressions. “And Fitzsimmons…” Fitz and Jemma raised their heads questioningly. “Neither of you are used to undercover work, so May’s going to spend a little time with you going over the basics. Simmons, I know that improvisation is not your forte and you like to be prepared, so we’ve come up with a backstory for you both. Just stick to this script, if anyone starts talking to you, do not go off it, and you’ll be fine. Better yet, let Skye and Trip do all the talking. If in doubt, make an excuse and leave. You have to rush to the bathroom, for example. It’s very common for people to experience diarrhea whilst in a foreign country.”

Fitz looked vaguely disgusted, Skye and Trip exchanged bemused looks, and Jemma nodded sagely.

“Okay, get out of here,” Coulson said. “Fitz, Simmons, go find May. After you’re done, the four of you can go and do some shopping.”

Everyone filed out of Coulson’s office. As soon as the door had shut behind them, Skye gave an excited little squeal and grabbed Jemma’s arm. “We’re going on vacation!”

“It’s not a real vacation, Skye,” Jemma pointed out.

“Even if it’s a fake vacation, I’ll take it,” Skye replied. “We get to lie in the sun and drink cocktails while we keep an eye on this guy.”

“Will we have to lie in the sun, seriously?” Jemma asked anxiously. “Because with my complexion, I burn easily.”

“We’ll get you some SPF 60 then, and a floppy hat,” Skye countered, rolling her eyes. “For god’s sake, Simmons, loosen up for once in your life, have some fun! We’re going to make the most of this. Hurry up and get done with May, and then we can go buy bikinis.”

“Alright!” Trip whooped. Fitz looked alarmed.

“Oh, I have a bathing suit…,” Jemma began.

“That Speedo thing you do laps in?” Skye looked incredulously at her. “No, Jemma, you cannot lie beside the pool in that! We’re supposed to be on vacation with our boyfriends, for god’s sake, you need to look hot. We need to get you a skimpy two-piece.”

“Oh god!” Fitz groaned from behind them. They turned to stare at him. He looked very pale.

“I just…hate the sun,” he mumbled, looking away from them. Trip frowned at him as if he had never heard of such a thing.

“Fitz got sunstroke once,” Jemma added, placing a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. “The first summer we were at the Academy, he wasn’t used to the heat.” Fitz turned his head in surprise to look at her hand and Jemma self-consciously removed it.

“Well, we’re not lying in the sun all day,” Skye retorted. “We still have a job to do, I’m just saying we can have a little fun as well. Honestly, you two have spent so much of your lives in a lab, you’re afraid to leave it for any length of time. It’s not healthy. You’re like frickin’ lab rats, you don’t know what to do if someone sets you free.”

“Oh I know what to do,” Trip grinned. “You guys stick with me, I’ll show you how to have some fun. Oh, man,” he said suddenly, as if he’d just thought of something, “I can’t wait to tell Hunter where we’re going! He’s going to be pissed!” Trip laughed gleefully.


	3. The Cover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> May gives Fitz and Jemma their instructions as well as some tips on how to behave undercover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter this time, so I'll post the next one in a day or two.

“The likelihood is that you won’t need any of this at all,” May told them. “We don’t anticipate you having to communicate too much with anyone other than hotel staff. But Quinn might have people watching Storch as well, so it’s better to be prepared, just in case any of the other guests start making conversation.” She handed them both the dossiers she’d been holding. “You will find it much easier to lie if you tell the truth,” she continued. “Or aspects of the truth anyway. So the closer the details of your backstory stay to your real life, the better. Use your first names only when you talk to each other. We’ve given you different surnames that you’re booked under, don’t forget them if anyone asks you. Fitz, you’re still an engineer, and Simmons, you’re a doctor. You met at college when you were both 17. You’ve been together since then.” They both nodded uncertainly and she gave them a reassuring look. “Listen, you guys have known each other for so long, and have such a familiar way of interacting with each other that it will be easy for people to believe that you’ve been a couple for a long time, without you having to act too differently. But don’t forget to be a little more affectionate with each other, you are supposed to be a couple remember.”

“What do you mean, ‘more affectionate’?” they both asked in alarm.

“Don’t worry, nothing too intimate,” May said, with a hint of a smile. “Just remember to hold hands if you’re walking, or maybe put your arm around each other. If you can bring yourselves to give each other a kiss now and then, so much the better.” Fitz looked like she was asking him to single-handedly take down Hydra. Jemma squirmed uncomfortably. “Skye and Trip are going to be playing a newer couple than you,” May went on, “they’re still in the honeymoon phase, so to speak, so they’ll be more affectionate with each other, which will take any focus off you. People tend to notice public displays of affection.” May reached into her pocket then and pulled out a diamond ring. “Jemma, you should wear this.”

They both gasped and stared at her. May tutted and sighed. “If you’ve been together for 10 years, people might ask why you aren’t married yet. Believe it or not, people can be judgmental and inquisitive like that. Saying you’re engaged gets you round having to come up with a reason. I was going to get you both wedding rings, but that would complicate things for you, just in case anyone asks you about the wedding and you have to start describing it. If you’re not used to thinking on the spot when it comes to being undercover, it’s better to have fewer details in your back story that you would have to make up. So you’re engaged and you haven’t gotten round to planning the wedding yet.”

Jemma hesitantly took the ring out of May’s hand and stared at it. “It’s beautiful, May,’ she gasped. “It’s real too.”

“Yeah, that’s a real diamond,” Fitz agreed, squinting at it. He nervously pulled back from it as if it was about to explode.

“It is, so make sure you don’t lose it,” May said brusquely.

“Does Skye get one as well?” Jemma asked, as she tried on the ring and admired it.

“No, Skye and Trip aren’t engaged, they’ve only been together for a little while. They’re friends of yours that you’ve introduced to each other. Trip works with you, Fitz, and Skye is your former roommate, Jemma. Everything you need to know is in those dossiers, so study them thoroughly. Your job at the hotel is to scan Storch’s room for any readings at all that might tell you if the 0-8-4 is in there, what it might possibly be and if it poses any danger. Skye and Trip will find a way to plant a bug in the room so they can keep tabs on Storch. They’re going to try and get a camera in there too, so you can maybe get a visual on the object. And all of you need to keep a tab on Storch’s movements at all times, but without him suspecting that he’s being followed. That’s the idea behind the vacation ruse, you’re fellow hotel guests. It would be helpful too for someone to strike up a conversation with him, to see if he gives any information away, but let Skye or Trip do that.”

“Wouldn’t it be better if I did that?” Fitz asked unexpectedly. Jemma tore her eyes off the ring to gape at him and May quirked an eyebrow at him. “I mean,” Fitz continued unperturbed, “he is a scientist. I can maybe get him chatting about his work, and I can understand it better than Skye or Trip. Jemma could too,” he added, nodding at her, “but she’s not very good at subterfuge. Well, you’re not,” he reasoned as she started to protest. “You get too nervous and you babble. It just means you’re an honest person.”

Jemma’s face softened as she flushed prettily and she busied herself with studying the ring again.

“Okay, Fitz,” May agreed, “but don’t seem too interested in his work or too eager for information, we don’t want to make him suspicious. The benefit of you talking to him over Skye or Trip is that he wouldn’t expect Shield to send another scientist after him. He’d be less suspicious of you. Skye and Trip look more like Shield agents.”

“I think I should probably be offended by that, but I was actually going to make that point myself,” Fitz replied.

“I think you look like a Shield agent,” Jemma muttered, as she started flicking through the dossier. “Especially in tac gear,” she added under her breath. Fitz frowned as he tried to work out what she had just said.

“Alright, you have your orders,” May declared. “Trip’s going to drive you into town to get whatever you need. Be aware that it won’t hurt to keep ICERs on you at all times, but you still need to look like tourists, so buy easily accessible beach bags or cargo shorts, things like that where you can conceal a weapon.”

“Yeah, this is just like a real holiday,” Jemma sighed sardonically.

 

“I hate you all so much,” Hunter declared bitterly. Trip chuckled. “Why can’t me and Bobbi go as well? What if you need back-up?”

“Because we need fake couples on this trip, Hunter,” Coulson said, as he poured coffee behind them. “Not real ones. Real couples forget that they’re undercover, the lines get blurred, they get distracted, they fight, they…do other things.”

“Is that so?” Hunter muttered, looking pointedly at Fitz and Simmons. They returned his look with puzzled frowns. He turned around to Coulson and spoke louder. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir. Bobbi and I are not…”

“Everyone knows, Hunter,” Coulson said, as he added milk to his coffee. “Pretty much everyone on the base has seen you sneaking out of Bobbi’s room in the morning. But you’re not technically a Shield agent, so there’s not a lot I can do about it. Except maybe not send you on missions where you’re supposed to look like a happy couple on vacation whilst really gathering intel. Because you and Bobbi will either look like a quarrelling couple on vacation or an amorous couple on vacation, and I suspect in the crossfire very little intel gathering would get done. If I wanted to send either of you as part of an undercover couple, I would send Bobbi with Mack. Hell, I’d send you with Mack.”

“Oh, please do, Coulson!” Skye cried, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, while she clapped her hands excitedly. “Please send him and Mack as a couple, that would be so fun for me!”

“Besides, I’m going to need you elsewhere,” Coulson said to Hunter, ignoring Skye.

Hunter sighed and saluted. “Very good, sir.” He turned to Skye. “And for your information, missy, Mack and I would rock the hell out of being a couple on holiday. People would be inspired by our love, we’d put you and Trip’s sham relationship to shame.” Skye raised her eyebrows and smirked at him. “We’d even put Fitzsimmons to shame, but only because they’re so bloody awkward,” he added, almost under his breath.

“What is _that_ supposed to mean?” Fitz spluttered indignantly. Jemma looked alarmed.

“Anything you want to tell me, Hunter?” Bobbi’s voice came from behind them. They all turned to see her standing in the doorway of the kitchen with folded arms and a raised eyebrow.

Hunter shrugged. “Mack’s a good-looking man, is all I’m saying. You should treat me right, Bob, because you might just have some competition.”

“Pffft,” Bobbi scoffed, as she moved to the fridge. “As if Mack would ever slum it with you!”

“Oi!” Hunter cried indignantly, as the rest of the group erupted in laughter.

“Okay, guys,” Trip called. “Time to hit the road. Go get your bags, we’ll all meet on the Bus in ten minutes.”

“Woo hoo!” Skye yelled. “Sun, sea and surf, here we come!”

Fitz and Jemma exchanged nervous looks before turning to leave on their first ever undercover mission.


	4. Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz, Jemma, Skye and Trip arrive at their hotel in Malta. Fitz is anxious.

“Oh wow!” Skye spun around where she stood and Jemma squeezed Fitz’s arm excitedly. Looking round the hotel lobby, he had to agree that this was not the usual roadside motel that Shield’s budget coughed up for. Moroccan-style lamps hung from high ceilings criss-crossed with dark wood roof beams. Fans whirred in between each lamp, and the brightly-coloured flower arrangements on the reception desk shuddered slightly in the consequent breeze. The smart shoes of the waiting staff click-clacked on the painstakingly polished tiles, as they ferried trays back and forth from the bar, past the grand winding staircase that led up to a mezzanine floor above. Expensively-clad guests sprawled on clean white sofas, clutching elaborate drinks and making a low rumble of conversation. Fitz felt sorry for the tuxedoed man at the grand piano whose gentle pieces were having to compete with the sounds of merriment floating in through the arched entrances to the pool area outside. He caught glimpses of a gleaming, sapphire lagoon enclosed by white stone, and tanned bodies lounging around it in the sunshine. Even Fitz had to admit it was quite a heady feeling being here.

“Okay, so we’re done checking in,” Trip said. “Let’s go find our rooms. We need to ascertain if Storch is in his room or not, so that Skye and I can get in there and bug it. Fitz, Jemma, we need you two to work your magic as soon as we get up there.”

“Leo,” Fitz said.

“Huh?” Trip frowned at him.

“His name is Leo while we’re here,” Jemma supplied. “I think we should get used to saying it.”

Fitz nodded. He was having a hard time getting used to the idea himself. Only his mum called him Leo anymore. And Jemma, when she was annoyed with him.

“Yeah, right,” Trip answered. “Good thinking. And I’m Antoine and Skye is Daisy.”

“Really?” Jemma stopped short in alarm. “That’s a lot to get used to. What if I slip up and call either of you by the wrong name? I’m the only one using my real name.”

“Nope,” said Skye. “We’re actually all using our real names.”

“Well, you know what I mean,” Jemma replied testily. “I mean the names we normally go by.”

“Sweetie, you probably get called Simmons more than you do Jemma. And we can’t use that here,” Skye reasoned with her.

“No, indeed. My name is Jemma Williams.” She nodded as if affirming that for herself and Fitz felt a rush of affection for her. “Why are we all using our real first names though, when apart from Daisy, those are the names on our Shield files?” she asked in confusion.

“It’s the last names we don’t want to use,” Trip replied. “We don’t want to use any name that follows the word ‘Agent’, just in case Storch has heard of us. He might still have contacts in Shield. And we’re using our own first names to make it easier for you and Fi…Leo.. to remember.” He grimaced at his own mistake. “And me, apparently.” He shrugged self-deprecatingly and grinned.

“Got it,” Jemma sighed.

“Hey,” Fitz said, leaning towards her. “If it helps, just use the aliases all the time, like when you’re referring to each of us as well as talking to us. Just so you can get used to them.” She smiled at him gratefully and he tried not to think about how warm it made him feel inside.

They all moved towards the elevator, trailing their suitcases behind them. Fitz started a little when he saw Trip casually drape his arm across Skye’s shoulder. Skye immediately leaned into him, and it struck Fitz that they looked completely natural, like a real couple. He had no idea how to do that. He didn’t think he could be as casual about putting his arm around Jemma like that, the way Trip was with Skye. He panicked a little and glanced over at Jemma. She was looking at him oddly. She was probably thinking it would be strange to do that as well. He sighed inwardly. How was he supposed to casually pretend that Jemma was his fiancée when to be in close proximity to her set his whole body on fire? Every slight bit of contact was like an electric shock ricocheting throughout his nervous system, so it was going to feel so incredibly awkward to place an arm around her like it was something he did every day. He hadn’t even hugged Jemma since he had realised that he was starting to enjoy it in a different way from she was. He felt too guilty to get that close to her again.

They crowded into the lift, and Fitz noticed Jemma huddle into the opposite corner from him, as she fiddled with the engagement ring on her finger. Great, he groaned internally, now we look like a couple having a fight. She clearly doesn’t want to do this either. Maybe that could be our cover, he thought wryly to himself, we could be the couple trying to hide the tension between them whilst on holiday with their happy, in-love friends. He needed to get past this, he knew, he needed to stop feeling this way about her. He was trying not to let it, but it was ruining their friendship and that was too important to him to give up.

The lift doors opened again, and they spilled out onto their floor. Skye was babbling excitedly about all the things they were going to do over the next few days, and Trip was laughing affectionately at her. They sound like genuine holidaymakers, Fitz thought. They’re so good at this. He glanced around at Jemma who was walking behind him, and noticed she was wearing the face she had when she was trying to pretend that everything was alright when it really wasn’t. Fitz was probably the only one who really knew that face, and he realised that Jemma didn’t just seem awkward, she actually seemed upset about something. A sudden thought punched him in the gut. He whipped his head back round to observe Skye and Trip clinging to each other as they walked down the corridor in front of them. Of course. Jemma liked Trip. He had been aware of that ages ago, although it had seemed recently like maybe those feelings had dissipated. But here she was, clearly upset that Skye and Trip were pretending to be a couple and sharing a room, while she was stuck with him. Fitz suddenly felt like he wanted to cry. These next few days were going to be a nightmare.

They reached their room first, and said their goodbyes to Skye and Trip as Fitz slipped the key card into the slot and pushed the handle open. They walked into the room and Jemma suddenly snapped out of her funk as she gasped. “Oh, Fitz!” she breathed, as she looked around. “Look! It’s lovely!” Fitz had to admit that it really was something else. The room was all white, with dark wood furniture and a tiled floor. They were standing in the middle of a cosy little living area, with a comfortable-looking two-seater sofa and a table with two dining chairs. A welcome basket which included a small bottle of champagne and two glasses sat on the table. A door on the right led into the bathroom, and a couple of steps led down into the recessed sleeping area. There was a large walk-in closet with wicker sliding doors and a big double bed with a white chiffon curtain draped around it. Beyond the bed, a French door covered by the same kind of curtain that surrounded the bed led out onto a balcony overlooking…wait a minute. Holy crap! Fuck, fuck, fuck. A double bed. One bed. For both of them. Fitz stared at it for a minute, and then turned back to assess the potential for a good night’s sleep offered by the sofa. It seemed small.

“Fitz, come here and look at the view,” Jemma called excitedly. She had pulled back the curtain over the door, and opened it to step out onto the balcony. He followed her out, and sucked in a breath. “Oh my god!” he murmured. Even if it had been overlooking a building site, the balcony would have been lovely in itself. It was a sizeable white stone balcony, complete with a table and chairs and two sun loungers, as well as some colourful plants. As it was, it overlooked the most spectacular vista of aquamarine sea, golden sand and rocky cliffs, set against the backdrop of a cloudless azure sky. Fitz couldn’t decide which he was more mesmerised by – the way the sunlight danced on the water, or the way it glinted in Jemma’s honey-coloured eyes as she gazed at the scene in front of her. It occurred to him that he didn’t think he’d seen her eyes sparkle like that in a long time. He tore his eyes away from her regretfully, as he remembered that they actually had a job to do.

“I better go and see if Storch is next door,” he said quietly in her ear. “Can you see anything from here?”

Jemma stood on her tiptoes to look over onto the other balcony. She shook her head. “The door’s shut and the curtain’s closed over.” She followed him back inside and watched as Fitz ran up the steps, back to where they’d dropped their bags when they’d come in. He lifted one of the cases and opened it, pulling out a roll of flexible material, which he opened into a rectangular shape before walking over and placing it on the wall between their room and Dr Storch’s. The screen flickered on, and Jemma walked over to stand behind him as they both gazed at the landscape of blues and greens in front of them.

“Nope, he’s not there,” Fitz said.

“There doesn’t seem to be anything else emitting heat in there,” Jemma observed over his shoulder. The gentle warmth of her breath on his ear made him shiver. “Which means that either the 0-8-4 doesn’t have any kind of energy signature, or else it’s not there either.”

“I hope he hasn’t gone to meet Quinn already,” Fitz said. “But according to Coulson, he only checked into the hotel just before we got here. So where is he?” He lifted his phone out of his pocket and texted Trip. _All clear._ A few seconds later, his phone beeped. _Roger that. Going in. You guys get changed and head downstairs to look for Storch._ Fitz showed the message to Jemma, who nodded before lifting her case and carrying it down the steps to sit it on the bed. She opened it and pulled out some garments and a bottle of sunscreen.

“Um, by the way,” Fitz began awkwardly, as he lifted his case. “Just to…I mean…I’m going to…I will…I’m quite happy to sleep on the sofa while we’re here. More than happy, so you…you can take the bed.” Jemma spun round and stared at him.

“Oh,” she replied, as she ducked her head. Fitz nodded.

“So…” he added, before he realised that he had no idea what he was going to say.

“I mean, you don’t have to,” Jemma said suddenly, looking up at him. “You know…it’s a big bed, and the sofa’s very small and it doesn’t really make sense…and anyway, it might look suspicious…if one side of the bed’s not slept in…to the housekeepers, I mean. You know, we’re supposed to be…a couple?” She gave him an almost imploring look that he couldn’t quite interpret the meaning of.

He shrugged. “Yeah, yeah, I suppose…I mean…whatever, it doesn’t matter. Whatever, we’ll sort it out later,” he shrugged. “We’d better hurry and get downstairs now.”

Jemma nodded and clutching her things to her stomach, hurried past him into the bathroom. Fitz sighed as he stared at the bed again. He had no idea how he was going to survive several nights lying so close to Jemma’s body. What if he had another erotic dream about her and he talked in his sleep? He’d been known to do that before. What if she heard him moaning her name? And what the hell was he going to do if he got an erection while she was lying in the bed with him?! It occurred to him that their friendship might no longer be intact by the time this mission was over.


	5. Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma and Fitz go to the hotel pool to look for Storch. Jemma ponders her feelings towards Fitz and struggles with the idea of exposing her bikini body.

Jemma nervously fidgeted with the halter-neck of her sundress as they walked through the lobby of the hotel. She wasn’t used to wearing dresses and she felt a little self-conscious, especially after she had emerged from the bathroom and Fitz had stared at her for what felt like a full minute. She supposed she must look very odd to him, he was so used to seeing her in jeans all the time. “Do I look ridiculous?” she had asked him despairingly, upon which he had shaken his head dumbly and replied, “No, no, you look…you look very nice.” His response didn’t exactly make her feel any better, not when she was already feeling so crappy. She really hoped that Skye wouldn’t make her take off this dress though. As promised, she was wearing the bikini Skye had talked her into underneath, but she felt so exposed in it. She was so pale and freckly and she didn’t have Skye’s body either.

She tried to refocus her thoughts by reminding herself that they were here on a mission and that was the important thing, not how she looked in a bikini or whether or not Fitz wanted to put his arm around her or sleep in the same bed as her. Neither of which he did apparently. She had been slightly wounded by the fact he’d appeared to be so horrified about the idea of sharing a bed with her when they were in Coulson’s briefing, but when she’d seen Fitz visibly react to Trip putting his arm around Skye earlier it occurred to Jemma that maybe he’d actually been horrified about the idea of _Skye and Trip_ sleeping in the same bed. And then when he had neglected to so much as touch her, even though they were supposed to be an engaged couple, but instead stood there looking like he’d rather be anywhere else, it hit Jemma that maybe Fitz still had feelings for Skye. She’d thought he’d gotten over that ages ago, but apparently he was still carrying a torch. And it stunned her that she cared. Having these thoughts about him that she’d been experiencing recently were one thing. But the heart-wrenching pain she’d felt when she realised he had a crush on her friend had taken her entirely by surprise. The distance Fitz had been keeping from her recently suddenly made sense. He didn’t want Jemma hanging around him all the time, he wanted Skye to see him as available. Every time she suggested doing something on their own together, he always ended up inviting half the base. And that always included Skye. Jemma had suddenly felt like a fool. She wanted to cry. She wanted to go home.

She wasn’t sure when exactly it occurred to that Fitz was no longer the scrawny, skinny boy she’d befriended at the Academy a decade ago. At some stage over the past year it dawned on her that Fitz had grown into an absurdly handsome man. She was sure that his eyes has changed colour because she’d never noticed that they were so shockingly blue before. His face had definitely filled out and the scruff he’d taken to wearing around his jawline looked incredibly attractive on him. His chest and shoulders seemed broader than before, and she couldn’t help observing that he had some muscle definition now. And his arms and hands suddenly seemed ridiculously appealing to her. She could barely take her eyes off them when she watched him expertly handling mechanical parts in the lab, distracting her from her own work as she idly wondered what those deft hands could do to her naked body. Then she would blush as she felt a warm tingling spreading through her lower belly, and she would quickly return her attention to what she was doing before anyone noticed her staring…or how disconcerted she was. She always felt dismayed about having such inappropriate thoughts in a professional environment and about her best friend. There was something wrong with her.

She had put it all down to sexual frustration. For some reason, Fitz had become the focus of the needs in her that were clamouring to be satisfied. Perhaps it was biological. After all, there wasn’t a huge pool of available partners to choose from, and so it made sense that her biochemistry would cause her to be drawn to the smartest man on the base. It was a mating instinct obviously. It was the most rational, reasonable explanation for these sometimes overwhelming impulses. Except now, she was utterly confused. If that were the case, why would it hurt so much when she realised he liked Skye? Perhaps it was simply pride? The implied rejection hurt her vanity? Or her sexual feelings had become mixed up with her possessiveness over him as a friend? After all, in the course of their decade-long friendship, neither she nor Fitz had ever had a proper relationship. They had both had encounters with the opposite gender, of course, brief flirtations and the odd date here and there, but neither of them had ever had to contend with the other one having a long-term romantic partner. Jemma suddenly realised that the thought of Fitz with a girlfriend really bothered her. She couldn’t believe she would be so petty and selfish, why wouldn’t she want her best friend to be happy? It was a puzzle and one she was going to have to work out soon, so she could just get over this silly longing and get back to having uncomplicated, purely platonic feelings about Fitz again.

The current situation was not helping however. They’d had a brief moment of awkwardness when they were leaving the hotel room, and they realised that they needed to look like a couple. Fitz had floundered a bit about where to put his arm before Jemma solved the matter by simply linking her arm through his, but she could see in his eyes that he was simply _hating_ this. And strangely, as much as it pained her that pretending to be her fiancé appeared to make him very uncomfortable, she couldn’t help but feel a tiny thrill as she walked through the lobby linked onto him with an engagement ring on her finger. She found she actually liked that people thought they were together. She had no idea what that meant.

“Jemma.” Fitz leaned in towards her as they stepped out into the pool area. She turned to look at him and swallowed at the proximity of his face to hers. “Isn’t that him over there? Look casually, remember.” Jemma glanced nonchantly round, and spotted Maximilian Storch reclining on a lounger with his eyes closed, a straw hat covering his bald head and a book in his hand. There was a drink on the table to the side of him. He didn’t look as if he was planning to go anywhere anytime soon.

“Yup, that’s him,” she murmured in Fitz’s ear. “Looks like we’ll be sunbathing then.” They walked towards the sun loungers. The one beside Storch was taken by a woman clearly very dedicated to tanning, so they claimed the two to the other side of her. Jemma positioned herself on her lounger, and took her sunscreen out of her bag. Ideally she should have applied it twenty minutes before she left the room, but they didn’t have time. She squirted some into her hand and began rubbing it on her legs. She became aware that Fitz appeared to be following the process attentively and when she glanced up at him, he suddenly looked embarrassed.

“Um…I’ll go and get us some drinks, shall I?” he asked. He looked rather red and flustered. He was probably feeling hot.

“Oh god,yes please, Leo,” Jemma enthused. “It’s stiflingly hot out here. Get me something fruity, with lots of ice. Whatever they have.”

Fitz nodded and reached into his pocket as he got up to walk towards the bar. Jemma found herself wishing that a blue t-shirt and cargo shorts didn’t look quite so good on him. As he walked past Dr Storch, she noticed him bump against his table slightly, shaking his drink. Dr Storch opened his eyes, and Fitz grabbed the table to steady it. As he leaned over to apologise, she saw him very surreptitiously drop something into Storch’s drink. A tracker! Tiny and made of almost clear plastic, indistinguishable from the cracking ice cubes - Storch would never notice it before he swallowed it. God, Fitz was so clever. Not just in the lab but he was getting so good at all this spy stuff as well. She felt a flutter in her stomach again. Damn it! Why did he have to be so bloody attractive?! She sighed and returned her attention to her careful application of her sunscreen.

She heard her name and looked up. Her jaw dropped. Skye was walking towards her in high wedge heels, wearing a tiny white crochet bikini that left very little to the imagination. Every male head in the area was turning to look at her - some of the female ones as well. And Trip was walking behind her, looking very appreciative of the view indeed. So much so that for once he didn’t seem to notice how every woman in the place was eyeing him up, shirtless as he was. As the base doctor, Jemma was very used to shirtless muscled men now, they didn’t have nearly the same effect on her as they used to. She had become almost desensitised to them. A pair of well-shaped hands fitting a transceiver patch on the other hand… She shook her head as she forced herself back to the present. Skye looked absolutely gorgeous, but Jemma was saddened to realise that her pride in her beautiful friend was tainted by an ugly lurch in her gut at the thought of what Fitz’s reaction would be when he saw her. She loved Skye, she did not want to be jealous of her. She needed to get over this thing as soon as possible. Although there was no way in hell she was taking off her sundress now.

“Heeeeyyy,” Skye called, giving a little wiggle as she approached Jemma. “Having fun? This place is great, isn’t it?”

“Hi, Daisy, Antoine,” Jemma answered deliberately, holding her hand over her eyes to shield them from the sun. “Did you get into the room okay?” She let her eyes flicker across to where Storch was sitting, hoping they’d pick up what she was asking.

Trip followed her eyes as he lay himself down on one of the loungers. “Oh yes,” he replied meaningfully, giving her a wink. “Unpacked all our stuff. Did a little exploring as well, but didn’t see anything that interesting.” So they had bugged Storch’s room and had looked for the 0-8-4, but hadn’t found anything that looked like it might be an alien object.

“Where’s Fi..Leo?” Skye asked.

“He’s gone to get us some drinks,” Jemma replied. “He was a bit clumsy on the way, almost knocked that man’s drink over,” she said loudly as she nodded towards Storch. “But he managed to get it in time. Poor silly Leo. We’ll just have to keep _track_ of his movements from now on, make sure he doesn’t _slip_.”

Trip’s eyes widened and he smiled as he realised what Jemma was trying to tell them. “Alright, Agent Fitz!” he said under his breath. Jemma nodded proudly. She glanced around to see Fitz coming back with a tray of drinks on it. Three of them were brightly coloured drinks with umbrellas sticking out of them and the other was a large glass of water with ice. Fitz was obviously feeling dehydrated already. He was always too warm as it was.

“Hey, Leo,” Skye called teasingly. Fitz looked up, and frowned slightly when he saw her. Then he looked away with a grimace as if he was a little embarrassed by the amount of flesh Skye was showing. Jemma was almost sure she had seen him roll his eyes as he looked away as well. She was surprised. Fitz’s reaction to Skye’s tiny bikini was not what Jemma had expected. She had thought his eyes would bulge out of his head. Instead the look on his face reminded Jemma more of her older brother reacting with disapproval to her younger sister’s bikinis.

“Hi guys,” Fitz said, as he arrived at their loungers, bending down to place the tray on the table beside Jemma. “Daisy, Antoine, I didn’t know what you both wanted so I got you the same as Jemma. It’s a fruit punch apparently.”

“Ooooh, lovely,” Jemma cooed as she took the two glasses off the tray, handing one to Skye. Fitz handed the other punch to Trip, and then sat back down on his lounger, sighing as he used his t-shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead, and then gulping down half the glass of water. “Leo, you’ll give yourself a headache. And cramps,” Jemma said, reaching out her arm to stop him drinking so fast.

“I don’t care, it’s hot as balls,” Fitz gasped as he paused in his gulping.

“Speaking of which, Jemma,” Skye interjected, “it’s time to get that dress off.”

Fitz seemed to choke on his water. Jemma glanced at him in concern, but Skye ignored him. “You can’t lie on a sun lounger in a dress, it looks weird. And it’s too hot anyway.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Daisy,” Jemma replied nervously. “I’m so pale and….”

“And nothing,” Skye replied. “This is for the sake of the mission, remember? We’re supposed to be hot young couples on vacation, you look like a Sunday School teacher at a picnic sitting there.”

Jemma sighed and reluctantly stood up, untying the dress at the back of her neck and pulling it over her head. “Alright!” Skye whooped. “Jemma Si… _Williams_ is showing some skin!” Trip laughed and raised his glass, but Jemma could see he was still unable to take his eyes off Skye. She was thankful for that as she was feeling very exposed. Jemma turned round to get back onto her lounger…and found herself face to face with Fitz who was staring at her with an absolutely unmistakeable look in his eyes.


	6. Discomfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz struggles to retain his composure at the pool and distracts himself by actually focusing on the mission!

Fitz had never been so uncomfortable in his life. For one thing, it was way too hot. For another, it turned out that Skye and Trip were very good at pretending to be a couple - almost to the point of it being embarrassing to watch. At the moment the two of them were occupying the same sun lounger, Skye sprawled between Trip’s legs, her head lying back on his chest, whilst his arms were wrapped around her waist. Meanwhile, Fitz was finding it incredibly stressful pretending to be in a relationship with Jemma. He could barely bring himself to look at her because he had never seen anything more arousing than the sight of her in that bikini. In all the years he’d known her, Jemma had never worn anything that revealed even the slightest hint of cleavage. But now he could see perfect curve of her breasts sweeping down enticingly into the black material, and it was impossible to keep his eyes from following them to where they dipped, or from imagining running his fingers - or better yet, his tongue - along each one. Jemma’s bikini was much more modest than Skye’s and yet strangely, Jemma seemed more naked to him. Her taut stomach, the pronounced curve of her hips, the freckles on her breasts, her milky thighs – all of this was entirely new to him, and entirely fascinating.

The problem was that he was so discombobulated by the proximity of Jemma’s almost-naked body that he no longer knew how to behave around her. He was supposed to be acting like her fiancé but he was probably failing miserably in that role. He had no idea how to touch her without it seeming awkward because every moment of contact felt so heightened. At one point he almost lost his reason entirely when she offered to rub sunscreen on his back. Skye had teased him about his refusal to take off his t-shirt, and he’d said he didn’t want to get burned. In reality, he would have loved to have taken off his t-shirt and to jump into the pool because he was practically boiling in his own sweat, but he didn’t want to be mistaken for a 12-year-old lying next to the Adonis that was Trip. Then Jemma had made her offer. The slight blush on Jemma’s cheeks and the way she had lowered her eyes when she said it was unbearably appealing as well. It looked almost… _as if she was flirting with him_. Which he was clearly either imagining or else it was supposed to be part of her cover, although Fitz wasn’t sure you would flirt that way with your boyfriend of ten years. Then again what would he know? He’d never been anyone’s boyfriend.

The thought crossed his mind that perhaps she was trying to make Trip jealous, although she didn’t seem that put out by his and Skye’s public displays of affection anymore. Instead she seemed very relaxed in their company, laughing and joking around with them. Trip’s rippling torso was attracting the attention of almost every woman around the pool, but Jemma hadn’t really appeared to give him a second glance. And Jemma was usually one for ogling well-built guys, Fitz had watched her do it for years. Perhaps she was putting on a front. Or maybe she was just trying to maintain their cover. She definitely seemed more comfortable with the idea of pretending to be his fiancée, the way she kept leaning over and touching him. At one stage she ran her hand along his arm and the trail of heat her fingers left in their wake felt like it might ignite his entire body. But the thought of her rubbing lotion on his back whilst wearing that black bikini just felt like more than his hormones would be able to handle. He might just possibly explode. He’d definitely come in his pants. When she’d said it, Fitz’s breath had quickened and his heart began racing and he was pretty sure he had just stared at her for about five minutes. He eventually gathered himself and stuttered his way through the excuse that he didn’t want to get sunstroke again, all the time thinking that he would love nothing more than for her to rub sunscreen anywhere she fucking wanted on him – just not in front of all these people. He was finding it difficult enough to hold it together as it was. He was doing everything he could think of to avoid looking all that creamy white flesh, glistening with the sun lotion she kept reapplying every half hour in the most maddeningly seductive way. He felt like he was going out of his mind. He was currently going over equations in his head while he tried not to watch her get up from her lounger and slide her fingers up inside her bikini bottoms and pull them down to more fully cover her shapely bum cheeks. When she walked over and dived gracefully into the pool, emerging like some sort of Venus before gliding through the water with languid strokes, it was frankly more than he could take. Terrified of being arrested for public indecency, he got up and walked towards the bar.

It was at that point that he noticed that Storch had vacated his lounger. Fitz panicked. He mentally chastised himself for being so distracted by Jemma that he’d forgotten why the hell they were there. At least Storch had swallowed the tracker, so Fitz would be able to locate him on his tablet. He was surprised Trip hadn’t kept an eye on him though. Then he noticed Storch leaning on the bar, his book still in his hand, and he realised that Trip knew exactly where Storch was. Unlike him, Trip was able to keep focus whilst looking like he was distracted by something else entirely.

This was an opportunity, it occurred to him, to strike up a conversation with Storch. He casually wandered over and stood beside him at the bar, idly clinking the coins in his pocket, waiting for the barman to finish getting Storch’s order. Storch glanced at him and Fitz met his eye, inclining his head in greeting. “God, it’s so hot, isn’t it?” Fitz said, as he flapped his t-shirt to cool himself.

Storch chuckled. “Yeah, well, I’m used to it,” he said. “I’m from Arizona.”

“Ah. I’m not. I’m from Scotland,” Fitz replied.

“I thought I recognised the accent,” Storch said. “You’re all from Scotland?” he asked, nodding his head in the direction of Jemma, Skye and Trip.

“Oh, no,” Fitz said. “I’m from Scotland, but I actually live in America. Boston, to be precise. My friends Daisy and Antoine are American, but my fiancée, Jemma, is English. I’m Leo Pond.” He proffered his hand to Storch, who shook it limply.

“Pleased to meet you, Leo. Max Storch is my name. A Scotsman and an Englishwoman, eh? Quite the unholy union,” he chuckled. Fitz smiled weakly. “And how did you two end up in Boston?”

“We went to school there,” Fitz replied. “I was at MIT, she was at Harvard. We met in a bar. Ironic, isn’t it, we came all the way to Boston, and both ended up with someone from Britain.” He chuckled to himself.

“You’re kidding, I’m an MIT alum myself,” Storch said in surprise. “What was your major?”

“Double major,” Fitz replied. “Mechanical and electrical engineering. I work in avionics now. My fiancée’s a doctor.”

“Ah,” Storch said. “I was a physicist myself.”

“Was?” Fitz queried. “You don’t work in science anymore?”

“Yes and no,” Storch replied with a grin. “I used to work in a big research lab. All grind and following orders, no recognition, no real money in it. A fool’s game, Leo. Then I made a discovery that had the potential to make me a lot of money, so I got out of there, and now, let’s say, I’m in the corporate game.” He smiled in a way that made Fitz distinctly uncomfortable. “Now I have the world at my feet, Leo. I have people lining up to throw money at me, anxious to find out what I know.”

“Really?” Fitz endeavoured to look impressed. “What was it you discovered?”

Storch chuckled and tapped the side of his nose in a confidential manner. “Proprietorial information, I’m afraid, buddy! Put it like this, what is the new currency that the world runs on?” he asked.

“Oh, information,” Fitz answered immediately.

“Precisely,” Storch replied, jabbing a forefinger at him. “They used to say that money was power, now information is power. And if you have something that can get you information, that can get you the right information and can get it quickly - information that no-one else has access to - then my friend, the world is your oyster, as they say. What does that saying even mean, I don’t know!” Storch laughed uproariously as he grabbed the cocktail the barman handed him and put it to his lips. The barman waited impatiently for Storch to pay him. Storch didn’t appear to notice.

“Sounds very intriguing, Max,” Fitz replied. “Here, I’ll get this,” he said, as he stepped forward to the bar and handed the barman a note. “Also three more fruit punches and a beer,” he added to the barman.

“Thank you my friend, thank you,” Storch clapped him on the shoulder. “Very decent of you, Leo.” He glanced towards the pool and Fitz saw his eyes widen. Fitz followed his gaze to where Jemma was climbing out of the pool, her wet hair slicked back and the bikini clinging tantalisingly to her curves. Rage swelled in the pit of his stomach as he watched Storch ogle her. “Your fiancée is lovely, by the way,” Storch added conspiratorially, leaning towards Fitz with a lecherous expression on his face. Fitz bit down the bile that rose in the back of his throat.

“Easy there, Max, easy,” he said with a forced laugh. “That’s my future wife you’re talking about.”

“And her friend is _something else_ ,” Storch continued, his eyes gleaming as they alighted on Skye, who was standing up and shaking out a towel. Fitz allowed himself a smile as he thought about all the different ways Skye could kill Storch.

“Oh, you don’t want to mess with Daisy,” Fitz chuckled. “Her or her boyfriend. They’re two of my closest friends and even I wouldn’t get on the wrong side of them.”

“Indeed. Well, a man can look,” Storch responded with a chuckle. “It was nice to meet you, Leo, thank you for the drink,” he said as he wandered off, his drink in one hand, his book in the other.

“You’re welcome, Max, take care,” he called after him. Jemma was now towelling herself off. Fitz sighed and looked away. The barman placed a tray of drinks on the bar, and Fitz lifted it. “Keep the change,” he said. He was rewarded with the first smile he’d seen on the barman’s face all day.

Fitz carried the drinks back to the other three, gratified to notice that Jemma had put on her sundress again. She still looked achingly pretty in that, but at least it was covering more than the bikini had. It would preserve his own sanity and protect her from the scrutiny of perverts like Storch. The scumbag in question wasn’t at his lounger, but the drink he’d just bought was sitting beside it. The woman who had been sunbathing beside him was gone too.

“I see you made a friend,” Trip said, as Jemma lifted her drink off Fitz’s tray, thanking him with a light squeeze of his arm. “What did you two chat about?”

Fitz glanced around looking for Storch before he answered. Skye indicated the tablet that was sitting in her lap. “He’s gone to the bathroom,” she explained. Fitz nodded. He had thought he was clever dropping the tracker in Storch’s drink, but it only occurred to him afterwards that he’d forgotten to bring his tablet down with him and so he couldn’t activate the tracker until he got back to his room. Skye had obviously brought her tablet down in her beach bag though and had activated the tracker Storch had swallowed. She was now keeping an eye on his movements.

“Nothing much,” Fitz replied to Trip’s question. “I learned that he’s a tool. And a complete lech to boot," he scowled. "He seems to be fond of power and money so he’s definitely planning to sell the 0-8-4, but something tells me he’s going to hold out for the highest bidder, so he’s not just going to hand it over to Ian Quinn so easily. I still don’t know what the 0-8-4 is, but it has something to do with information. It’s something that gets information. I don’t know, maybe it steals data from computer systems or something.” He shrugged. “That’s all I know.”

“Fitz, that’s amazing.” Jemma was looking at him in awe, and Fitz felt himself go red. “I mean, Leo,” she corrected herself, looking around in horror to see if anyone had heard her.

“Yeah, good work, man,” Trip said in admiration.

Fitz shook his head. “We still don’t know where or when he’s meeting Quinn. I didn’t want to ask any questions about why he was in Malta, because I didn’t want to make him suspicious. He’s an idiot, he talked quite openly about this discovery that could make him money, so it obviously never occurred to him that I was Shield.”

“Nah, you did good,” Trip replied. “We have a tracker on him now, and ears in his room, so we’ll know when he goes to meet Quinn.”

“I’m thinking our sun worshipper there is one of Quinn’s people,” Skye added. “She seemed oblivious to everything until he got up to go to the bar. She sat up to watch him then. And then she followed him to the bathroom.”

“Oh god, you think she might be on to us?” Jemma asked nervously.

“No, not at all,” Skye replied. “If she was, she would have been a lot more interested in his conversation with Fitz. And once she ascertained that he was only going to the bathroom, she would have come back to listen to what we were saying. I don’t think Quinn’s expecting Shield at all. And if he is, that woman doesn’t suspect us four.” She pointed to the tablet again. “He’s on his way back.”

“Okay,” said Fitz, looking at Jemma. “He has another drink to finish, so while he’s down here, we should head up and see if we can get any readings from his room that might tell us what the 0-8-4 is.” Jemma nodded and put the tablet back in her bag.

“Oh, it’s a pity you didn’t join me for a swim, Leo,” she sighed. “The water was lovely.” Fitz nodded regretfully. There were a lot of things it was a pity he didn’t get to do.

“We’ll stay here and keep an eye on Storch,” Trip said. “Take your drinks with you, guys, to make it look like you’re just going to your room to be alone. Plus, you just bought them, you don’t want to waste them,” he grinned. “Especially not that beer,” he said, raising his eyebrows at Fitz.

Fitz shrugged. “I thought it looked less suspicious. We’re supposed to be on holiday, yet none of us are drinking alcohol. Maybe the rest of you can get away with it, but I’m Scottish, it just looks weird.” Everyone laughed, and Fitz grinned as lifted his bottle of beer and started to walk away. Jemma came up behind him, and slipped her hand into his, lacing their fingers together. Fitz forcibly restrained himself from reacting, but couldn’t help an instinctive glance down at their intertwined hands.

“We’re supposed to look as if we’re going off to be alone together,” she murmured reproachfully in his ear.

Fitz nodded. “I know,” he said. He let go of Jemma’s hand, and instead wrapped his arm around her. She leaned into him, biting her lip as she smiled up at him, and Fitz felt a pang as he realised just how used to this he could get.


	7. Dorothy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On their way to Storch's room, Jemma processes some new information that she has discovered and ruminates on what to do about it. They are forced to think on their feet when they meet a fellow hotel guest, and they run into trouble whilst searching Storch's room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a little late in posting this chapter because I've had a hectic couple of days, but this is the longest chapter yet, and a LOT happens in it. Enjoy!

He wanted her, she was almost sure of it. The realisation had hit her full in the face when she saw the way he looked at her in her bikini. She had never seen that look on Fitz’s face before and she was intimately familiar with all of his expressions. But she knew what it meant. She knew what it meant because of the way it made her insides burn and her knees buckle and the way it sucked the breath right out of her chest. She had felt herself blush to be stared at like that but she also felt the heat unfurling between her legs as his intense blue eyes roamed her body, and she wished his hands would follow them. She almost expected him to make some kind of move, he was so blatant about the way he was caressing her with his gaze, but it occurred to her that he didn’t know he was doing it - especially when he finally met her eyes and blushed so hard the tips of his ears turned pink before he looked away quickly. It wasn’t even that scandalous a bikini – it was plain black and nowhere near as revealing as Skye’s. But clearly he liked it, and Jemma liked that he liked it – _so much_.

It was confusing though. Did he always feel this way, or was it just because of the bikini? Was it just because he wasn’t used to seeing her like that? That he wasn’t used to thinking of her as a woman as opposed to his best friend? She started to mull over all the little things that had been bothering her. The way he stared at her in the dress earlier, the way he had been watching her apply her sunscreen. She had thought the looks he gave her strange at the time. She wasn’t sure what they meant but when she recalled them now she wondered if it was because he found her attractive. The way he had reacted to the idea of the two ‘couples’ having to sleep in the same room – she had thought he was annoyed because it meant Skye sharing a room with Trip, but when she put it together with his awkwardness about the bed earlier she wondered if it was because he was anxious about sharing a bed with _her_. Although there was also the way he’d reacted when Trip put his arm around Skye. Did he still like Skye as well? She wasn’t sure about that anymore. He’d basically been the only man in the place who hadn’t ogled Skye in that bikini - including Trip.

The problem was that this new possibility had only increased Jemma’s desire tenfold. It had almost become unbearable to her. If Fitz wanted her as well then there was no way she’d be able to resist these impulses now. As it was she had been unable to resist flirting with him for the past hour, just to see how he would respond. It mostly seemed to make him nervous, so she wasn’t sure but the fleeting hungry look he gave her when she stroked his arm at one point had caused her stomach to flutter. And the way that he had put his arm around her when they were leaving the pool had warmed her insides. If she was right about his feelings, then it was only a matter of time before she gave into this, but therein lay the problem. He was her professional partner and her best friend in the world - what would happen to those relationships if they slept together? The idea was terrifying. Fitz had been the most important person in her life since she was 17. There wasn’t anything they hadn’t shared since then, he was her home, her family. What would she do if that was destroyed? Yes, she had Skye now, and Bobbi and Trip and the rest of the team, but none of them were Fitz, none of them would ever fill the hole he would leave in her life if she lost him.

As they stood waiting for the lift, a very tanned elderly woman in a white sun hat, bright pink lipstick and a lot of clanking gold jewellery arrived beside them. She smiled and nodded at them. “Just arrived, have you?” she asked in an American accent.

“Oh, yes,” Jemma replied quickly. “Just today.”

“Yes, I was thinking I hadn’t seen you before,” the woman replied. “I saw you out by the pool. I just wanted to say that you two are an absolutely _adorable_ couple. I’m Dorothy, by the way.”

“Oh!” Jemma felt her face grow hot and out of the corner of her eye, she could see Fitz’s face glowing a deep scarlet as well. “Um…thank you, Dorothy! I’m Jemma, this is Leo.”

“Oh, look at that,” Dorothy chuckled, “now I’ve made you both blush. That is just so sweet. How long have you been together?”

“Ten years,” they said in unison.

“Ten years! Why, you must have been babies when you met,” she exclaimed.

“We were 17,” Jemma replied, smiling.

“Aww, high school sweethearts!” Dorothy replied with a warm smile.

“College sweethearts actually,” Fitz cut in.

“That is just darling,” Dorothy commented. “When I saw you out by the pool, I noticed the way that you two look at each other and I thought, now there is a young couple who are truly in love. I mean, you can just feel it, it’s just tangible between you two.”

Jemma gave a high-pitched and slightly hysterical laugh in response, hoping that Dorothy wouldn’t notice how much she wanted to die right now. She could feel Fitz’s embarrassment radiating off him in waves, and it was a match for her own.

“But to still be that much in love after ten years together, that is just beautiful,” Dorothy went on, seemingly oblivious to their mortification. “Oh, and I see you’re getting married!” she exclaimed, pointing at Jemma’s ring. “Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” they both mumbled.

“When’s the wedding?” she asked.

“Oh, we don’t know yet, we haven’t set a date,” Jemma said, glancing at Fitz.

He shook his head. “We’re only very recently engaged,” he added. “We, um…we got engaged on our tenth anniversary.”

Jemma glanced at him in surprise, and then remembered that she was already supposed to know this, and began nodding emphatically instead.

“Oh, how sweet!” Dorothy said, clasping her hands together.

“Yes, yes, it was,” Jemma replied, smiling. The lift doors opened and the three of them got in. Fitz dropped his arm from Jemma’s shoulders, and she felt the loss of it like a chill wind. He asked the woman what floor she was on and pressed the button for her.

“How did you do it?” Dorothy asked Fitz.His eyebrows shot up into his hair.

“I’m sorry?”

“How did you propose?” she said. Jemma shut her eyes. This was the moment when their cover would be blown. And it was only still the first day.

“Oh! Um, well, I…um…I took her stargazing. To watch a meteor shower. I brought a picnic and champagne and everything. And when we saw a really bright meteor falling, I pretended to grab it with my hand, and when I opened my hand I had the ring and I offered to her. And… that’s how I did it.”

Jemma’s mouth hung open as she stared at Fitz. That was possibly the most romantic thing she had _ever_ heard. She had never really thought about how she would ever want to be proposed to, but that was pretty much perfect. She had always loved meteor showers. Ever since they had met in the Academy, she and Fitz always checked the meteor shower schedule each year, and tried to watch them each month, depending on the skies. She had always thought them terribly romantic. She couldn’t believe he had thought of that. Had he just come up with it on the spot, or had he planned this out on the flight over?

Dorothy cooed beside her. “Oh, that is so romantic!” she cried. She clutched Jemma’s arm. “Were you surprised? What did you do? Did you cry?”

Jemma turned to look at her in a daze. “Oh…yes, I was very surprised. Very. I just couldn’t believe that it was happening, that he would think of something that amazing, it was…incredible.” She looked back at Fitz in astonishment. “Just beautiful,” she said. He blushed and smiled awkwardly, and Jemma shook her head and turned back to Dorothy. “And yes, I cried,” she said with a smile. Weirdly, she could feel a lump in her throat right now.

“Oh, I’m not surprised,” Dorothy said. “With a proposal like that, this one’s a keeper, honey.” She winked.

“Ha, yes, he is,” Jemma laughed awkwardly. The lift stopped.

“Well, this is my floor,” Dorothy said. “It was so nice meeting you too, and I wish you all the happiness in the world. You are such a lovely couple, it warms my heart to see people so happy together.” The doors opened but she didn’t get out. She seemed to be staring into space and Jemma and Fitz exchanged a bewildered look. “My husband died last year,” she said unexpectedly. Her smile faded in a way that clutched at Jemma’s heart. Fitz’s face fell and he slammed his hand on the button to keep the lift doors open. “We were childhood sweethearts as well. Married for over fifty years before he passed away. He wasn’t just my husband, he was my best friend in the whole world,” she added sadly. “And I miss him so much every single day, I just don’t know what to do without him. I have many friends, I have my children and grandchildren, and even a great-grandchild now, and yet I still feel so lonely.” Hot tears almost blinded Jemma and her throat closed over. She snuck a glance at Fitz and wished she hadn’t because it almost broke her when she saw that he was welling up too. Dorothy turned around and smiled sadly at them both. “When I saw you two, you reminded me so much of how Ray and I used to be.” A single tear rolled down her cheek, and she reached into her purse and pulled out a handkerchief. “You two are young,” she gasped as she dabbed at her cheek, “you have your whole lives ahead of you, I know. But please, don’t waste a second of it, cherish each other, because one day you’ll wake up and you’ll be old, and honestly, whichever one of you goes first? That’s the lucky one. Because you’ll never know what it’s like to have to live in a world without your best friend.”

Her tears were coming thick and fast now, and so were Jemma’s. Without thinking she reached over and threw her arms around Dorothy and gave her a tight squeeze. The lady laughed through her tears. “Oh, aren’t you a sweetheart? Look at me, what a silly old woman, getting all sentimental,” she chuckled. “I didn’t mean to upset you on your vacation. You have a lovely time and enjoy every single moment of it.”

“We will,” Jemma said, nodding as she wiped at her eyes. “I hope that you enjoy your vacation as well. I know that your husband would want you to.” Fitz still hadn’t spoken but he nodded as he stared at the ground.

“He would.” Dorothy smiled at her and squeezed Jemma’s arm as she walked out of the lift. “You two take care of each other now.”

The doors closed and the lift started moving again in silence. Jemma sniffed and hugged her arms round herself. She felt Fitz’s hand on her back suddenly and she turned to look at him. “You okay?” he asked, as he rubbed his hand up and down. His eyes were still wet, and his chin was wobbling a little.

“Yeah,” she said, smiling shakily. “I don’t know why that upset me so much. It was just so sad…” “It was.” He met her eyes for a moment, and then he held out his arms and she fell into them like a key slotting into a lock. The lift stopped again suddenly and as the doors rolled open, they broke apart almost guiltily, for some reason.

 

“If we don’t know what the hell it is we’re looking for, then how do we know what to look for?” Fitz asked suddenly, as they sombrely walked up the corridor towards their room.

“We don’t, so we take every kind of reading we can,” Jemma answered absently. “We’ve already done a thermal scan, so we can rule that one out. We’ll take readings for electromagnetic frequencies, chemical signatures, sound frequencies…anything we can think of.”

“That’s going to take a long time,” he sighed.

“Well, we have some instruments small enough to place discreetly in his room so that we can take remote readings,” she replied.

“He was a Shield scientist, Jemma. If he finds any of those things then he’ll know what they are,” he warned.

“Well, if he finds the listening device he’ll know what that is too, Leo,” she argued. “It didn’t stop us from putting that in his room.”

He frowned at her. “I can’t tell now, are you calling me ‘Leo’ because of our cover, or because you’re annoyed at me?”

“Why would I be annoyed at you?” she said, somewhat irritably. She wasn’t sure why.

“I don’t know,” he said uncertainly. “But you seem like you are.”

She sighed. “I just keep thinking that we lied to that old lady, and it doesn’t feel right. She thinks we’re this happy couple who are getting married, and it made her happy because it reminded her of her husband, and it’s not true and really we’re here to spy on someone. Maybe I’m just not built for undercover missions,” she added regretfully. “I’m a scientist, not a secret agent. I’m not good at this stuff. Even you’re much better than me. The information that you got from Storch and the thing you did with his drink and everything.”

“Hey, I’m not very good at this either,” Fitz assured her. “Not the undercover stuff anyway. But I’ve been on a lot more missions than you, and I’ve seen the way the rest of them work. Hunter’s great with this stuff, I learned the trick about dropping the tracker in the drink from him. And the conversation with Storch, I knew I could do it because he was a scientist, not a spy. And Hunter told me you keep the conversation casual, don’t probe because it makes them suspicious. And talk about yourself more than about them, it puts them at ease, makes them open up more.”

Jemma was impressed and deflated at the same time. “See that’s what I’m talking about,” she said. “You know all this stuff and I don’t. I’m not sure what I’m doing here, Fitz, apart from posing as your fiancée. In fact, I think that’s exactly why Coulson sent me. I feel kind of useless otherwise.”

Fitz stopped and turned around to face Jemma. “That’s ridiculous,” he said quietly. “You know as well as I do that what we’re here for is to figure out what we’re dealing with. And that is what we do best – figure out stuff together. Together we’re twice as smart, remember? You’re the chief medical officer on the base, Jemma, you’re vital there - Coulson wouldn’t have let you go if you weren’t needed here.”

She fought the overwhelming urge to just kiss him there and then.

“Plus,” he said as he turned away and started walking up the corridor ahead of her, “you’re better at this kind of stuff than you think. I thought you were really convincing out at the pool and with Dorothy.”

Jemma sighed heavily.

 

“Nothing,” Fitz sighed. “We’ve tried everything and we’ve found absolutely nothing. If Storch has the 0-8-4 then it’s not in this room.”

“Maybe we’re looking at this all the wrong way,” Jemma as she packed away their equipment. “Because it’s an 0-8-4, we’ve been thinking in terms of an alien object like the Tesseract, or an old Hydra weapon or something of that nature. Maybe it’s none of those things. Maybe it just doesn’t give off frequencies or signatures of any kind. If it’s something that gets information, then maybe it’s a…computer program?”

“Why would a computer program be an 0-8-4?” Fitz asked testily.

“Well, I don’t know, do I!” Jemma snapped. “I’m taking a stab in the dark here. We’re looking for an object, and we don’t even know what it is. All I’m saying is that it might not even be an object. Storch erased absolutely everything Shield had on it when he disappeared.”

“But like, why does no-one remember what the hell he took?” Fitz asked in despair. “I mean Coulson said he and May both met Storch. Why do they not know what it was he was working on? None of this makes any sense, why does no-one know what the hell this thing is?”

“Maybe…maybe the thing wiped their memories?” Jemma offered hesitantly. Fitz stared at her for a moment, and Jemma prepared herself for the onslaught of scorn that would be no doubt heaped upon her suggestion. One of Fitz’s least attractive qualities was that he tended to be disparaging and sarcastic when he was frustrated. Although Jemma knew she was one to talk; she was capable of being quite cutting and supercilious when she was annoyed.

“Jemma, you could have a point,” Fitz said suddenly.

“ _What?!_ You really think Coulson and May had all memory of this 0-8-4 wiped from their minds?!”

“I don’t know, maybe. Maybe everyone at Shield who knew about it did. It’s the only thing that makes sense. Something Storch said has been niggling at me. He said _‘if you have something that can get you the right information and get it quickly’_. And that struck me as odd, ‘the right information’. What does that mean? If you’re getting information from the internet, for example, how do you know it’s the right information? How do you know it’s true?”

“Because there are verified sources?” Jemma answered.

“Yes, but that takes time to check. He said this thing gets information quickly. And we are talking about an 0-8-4 here, so you know…”

“Weird,” Jemma finished for him.

“Yes, exactly,” Fitz said. “And another thing…Storch also said that he could get ‘information that no-one else has access to.’ I mean, maybe he’s talking about hacking into the NSA or even Shield, but that is information other people have access to. Not very many people, but some people. So what information does no-one else except him have any access to? The right information and quickly. Jemma, what if… what if this thing takes information directly from people’s brains, for example? And then wipes their memories so that they don’t remember anything about it?”

“Oh shit!” Jemma cried, jumping up.

“Yes, exactly!” Fitz said excitedly.

“No, Fitz,” Jemma said, pointing at the tablet. “Storch is on his way back. He’s in the lift _right now_!”

“ _Fuck!_ ” Fitz said. “Why the hell didn’t Skye or Trip warn us?”

“Probably because they thought we’d be watching the tracker on your tablet,” Jemma said wryly, as she started shoving equipment cases into her oversized beach bag. “Which I was keeping an eye on until we started discussing the 0-8-4.”

“As if we haven’t enough to do already,” Fitz whined, as he threw instruments into the backpack he’d brought with him.

“Fitz, the lift has stopped!” Jemma was panicking now.

“Maybe we should go out the balcony,” Fitz said, slipping the backpack on and starting to move towards it.

“No, it’s too big a leap across to ours, and there’s no time,” Jemma cried. “Plus the balcony door to our room is locked. We need to go now!” 

Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she opened the door and ran out into the hall, Fitz following behind with his backpack. He pulled the door shut behind him as Storch walked out of the lift and started moving down the corridor towards them. With no time to spare, Jemma did the first thing that came into her head. She grabbed the front of Fitz’s t-shirt, slammed him back against the door and pressed her lips hard against his. She winced as she heard the thud of the equipment in Fitz’s backpack hitting the door behind him. Fitz made a little squeak of surprise and hesitated for a split second, before his hand came up to cradle the back of her head. The other one slipped around her waist and pulled her body tight against his. His lips, she found, were surprisingly soft and warm, and the feel of them against hers sent little sparks along her nerve endings, melting everything inside her. She wasn’t sure who parted their lips first, or if they did it simultaneously, but all of a sudden, their mouths were moving together in delicious congruency, pulling apart and coming back together again, creating ripples of pleasure that swelled into a tide of heat and pressure in her lower belly. The sound of simultaneous heavy breathing became louder and more emphatic until it was punctuated by Fitz moaning against her mouth, and Jemma’s returning whimper.The impending approach of Dr Storch down the corridor suddenly brought her back to the present situation and the reason for this action, and she pulled away from Fitz, gathering enough presence of mind to declare loudly with a high-pitched breathy giggle, “Oh, Leo, this is the wrong door! Our room is the next one over!” 

His eyes were dark as he stared back at her with moist, swollen lips and a dazed expression. She shuffled backwards towards the door of their room, keeping a hold of his t-shirt and pulled him back against her lips just as Storch walked past them. She let out another moan, not sure she had done it deliberately or not, as Fitz kissed her back fervently whilst fumbling with trying to fit the key card into the slot in their door. Jemma opened her eyes just in time to see Storch letting himself into his own room with a lewd grin on his face. Fitz finally pushed the door open and the two of them stumbled back through it.


	8. Hot Steam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz is close to boiling point in the aftermath of the kiss. And Jemma isn't helping.

As the door swung shut behind them, they broke apart, their chests heaving in tandem as they stared wild-eyed at each other. Fitz was utterly confused. That was beyond a doubt the most incredible kiss of his life. He was almost convinced that Jemma had enjoyed it too. It had felt that way, but of course she had only done it so they could avoid being caught coming out of Storch’s room. Why did it feel so real then? And why was she staring at him now like she wanted to do it again? He wasn’t sure what to do. If he made a false move now, he could do serious damage to their friendship. He was also aware that he was already semi-hard and although the baggy cargo shorts he was wearing hid a multitude, it could be very embarrassing for him if Jemma got too close. He waited to see what she was going to do. Then something caught his eye. The thermal scanner was still on the wall where he had left it earlier and a large round shape with red and orange outlines had appeared on it. For a moment he had no idea what it was. Then he realised that it looked like the profile of Storch’s head. A very close up profile of Storch’s head. Fitz’s jaw dropped in horror.

Jemma turned her head to see what he was looking at and a look of bewilderment crossed her face. She turned back to Fitz. “What…?” she whispered.

“ _Listening_ ,” he mouthed slowly at her, cupping his ear to demonstrate. “ _Against the wall_ ,” he mouthed again, gesturing towards the wall.

Fear registered on Jemma’s face. She grabbed her tablet from her bag, and typed quickly on it, swinging it round to show him. It read: _Have we been made?_

He shook his head, grimacing in disgust. He reached over and took the tablet off her. He typed: _The pervert thinks we’re about to have sex_.

Jemma looked like she was about to throw up. “ _What do we do?_ ” she mouthed in panic. Fitz looked around wildly, although he wasn’t sure what he was looking for. If Storch didn’t hear the sounds of passionate sex coming from their room soon, he might get suspicious. He shrugged desperately at Jemma. All of sudden, Jemma’s face lit up. She darted past him into the bathroom and turned the shower on to full force. She rushed back out and grabbed his hand, pulling him into the bathroom with her and shutting the door behind them.

“What…?” he asked in confusion.

“Shower sex,” she replied simply. “Hopefully he’ll have heard the sound of running water and the door shutting and he’ll think that’s what we’re doing. He’ll be disappointed he’s not getting the full audio experience, but at least he won’t get suspicious.”

“Oh, that’s clever,” Fitz breathed. “Very quick thinking. See, I told you that you were better at this stuff than you think. And out in the hall too, that was _amazing_.”

Jemma’s eyebrow quirked up and he felt the heat rushing to his face suddenly as he realised what he’d said.

“I mean, you thinking of that so quickly was amazing,” he spluttered. She frowned. “Not that it wasn’t…amazing,” he added quickly, his face so hot now it was practically throbbing. He turned away in mortification, wishing the ground would open up and swallow him. He picked at the door frame. “How long should we stay in here, do you think?”

Jemma didn’t answer. He turned back round to see her in the process of taking off her dress. “Wha…what are you doing?” he stuttered in shock. She glanced at him with a mild expression on her face.

“Well, as long as the shower’s running, I might as well get in and wash my hair, get all this chlorine and sunscreen off me,” she replied, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“But…but…I’m in here!” he said in horror.

“Don’t worry, Fitz, I’ll close the curtain over,” she replied. “You won’t have to see anything.”

“It doesn’t matter, I’ll know!” he cried.

“So what does that matter?” she asked.

“It…it just does, Jemma!” Sometimes he couldn’t understand her. What the hell did she think she was doing to him, kissing him like that, and then stripping off to shower just feet from where he was standing, with only a thin curtain between them? This woman was going to be the death of him. “At least keep your swimsuit on,” he demanded.

Jemma smirked at him. “Fine,” she said, climbing into the bathtub and standing under the shower. His mouth hung open as he watched her shake back her hair like a sexy woman in a shampoo ad, the water running over her skin, the steam rising around her, her eyes closed as though she was having a deeply sensual experience. She squirted shower gel into her hand and started lathering it on her skin. His eyes almost bulged out of his head as she soaped herself up, rubbing it provocatively all over her body…even over her breasts. He spun around hurriedly as he felt the blood rushing to his cock. Jesus Christ, had she no compassion at all?!

“Close the curtain, Jemma,” he said angrily. He heard her exasperated voice from behind him.

“But you said to keep my bikini on!”

“Keep it on and close the curtain!” he said through gritted teeth, desperately willing his erection away.

“You know what, if my ablutions are such an affront to your prudish sensibilities, I’m sure by this stage our creepy neighbour has given up on getting a porn soundtrack,” she snapped. “You can go back out there now.”

Fitz pulled the door open and stormed out into the room, closing the door tightly behind him. His cock was throbbing. He couldn’t even have a wank now, because he didn’t know how long her shower would take, and he didn’t think he could do it with her in the next room anyway. This was absolute torture. He went over to the table where he’d left his beer earlier but it was warm and flat when he took a drink. He wanted to walk out onto the balcony to sit alone and stare at the view and wait until his arousal had subsided, but he was worried about Storch seeing him if he looked out the window. Not having ever had shower sex before, he wasn’t entirely sure how long the process took, but he didn’t think he’d been in there long enough. He glanced at the thermal scanner. He was appalled to see Storch roughly in the area of his own shower, surrounded by a lot of heat, and looking like he was… _oh god no_. Fitz swallowed back the vomit which surged in the back of his throat. That fucking creep was tossing himself off, no doubt whilst imagining having sex with Jemma in the shower. Fitz was ready to march in there and shoot him until he remembered that he had just been greatly irritated that he couldn’t do the same thing.

Flooded with shame, he tore down the thermal scanner, grabbed his warm beer and went out to the balcony. Sitting down on one of the patio chairs, he stared out at the sea view before him as if he was trying to imprint it into his mind. But he was unable to get the view he’d just witnessed in the bathroom out of his head. The fact that it was interspersed with the memory of her mouth on his only made matters worse. Despair set in as he realised that the only way he was going to get through the next couple of days without seriously embarrassing himself was to be honest with Jemma. He was going to have to tell her that he was attracted to her, and that was why he couldn’t watch her shower or share a bed with her, and why she definitely couldn’t grab him and kiss him again, even if Storch _was_ about to catch them searching his room. This was going to ruin their friendship and it was going to be awful.

He attempted to distract himself by pondering the question of the 0-8-4, until he was suddenly aware of movement behind him. He swivelled his head. Through the glass door he could see Jemma moving about the room wearing only a towel. He let out an audible groan and looked away quickly before he could see anymore. This was a nightmare. She was working through pretty much all of his fantasies today. It was as if she could read his mind and was trying to punish him for his impure thoughts. The thought of mind-reading brought him back to the 0-8-4 again, and he tried to focus on that and not on what was in the room behind him. What if it was some kind of device that could read people’s minds? How would that work? He turned the idea over in his head without much effect until he felt his stomach growl and realised that he was hungry. It was probably near dinner time. He should probably check the tracker as well to see if Storch was on the move again, but the thought of that man made him shudder now. He didn’t want anything more to do with him, and he didn’t want Jemma anywhere near him again.

He heard the hairdryer going and got up and slid the door open, moving back into the room. Jemma was in the process of blow-drying her caramel locks, a floaty coral pink dress with thin straps clinging tantalisingly to her body as she moved. The delicate fragrance of her shampoo went straight to his head, and he couldn’t help thinking about how soft her skin looked, and how much he wanted to stroke it. The low evening sunlight was reflecting off the diamond on her finger, making it sparkle as she combed her fingers through her hair. She really was beautiful. He wished it was real, he realised as he watched her. All of it, the hand-holding, the kissing, the shower sex…even the engagement ring. That thought startled him. Where did that come from? Did he really want that?

He had to admit to himself that he really liked the idea of Jemma being his fiancée. When Dorothy had asked him how he’d proposed in the lift, he’d panicked and tried to think of something romantic. Jemma had always loved meteor showers, it was something they’d always done together and each one they watched had always felt like magical to him. He’d remembered one time they were watching the Geminids in December and they’d taken a bottle of whiskey and some blankets to keep them warm, and once Jemma had a few drams in her, she’d started waxing lyrical about how a particularly bright meteor looked like a diamond. But as the story had come to him in the lift, he couldn’t help feeling a little sorry that he’d wasted this idea on an undercover mission. Jemma knew about it now, so it would never be a surprise. _What was he talking about?!_ He actually wanted to propose to her?! What was this he was feeling then? It wasn’t just lust if that’s where his thoughts were going. Was he in love with her? He’d never been in love before and his feelings for his best friend were so complicated now, he had no idea.

Jemma looked up at him, and switched the hairdryer off. “Antoine texted,” she said, standing up straight and shaking her hair. Fitz frowned at her until he remembered that he’d told her to use everyone’s alias when talking about them. “He went into the restaurant and managed to get a look at the reservations list. Storch has reserved a table for 7.00, so Antoine booked us one for that time as well. He and Daisy will meet us down there. You’d better get changed. It’s long trousers in the restaurant though, no shorts or jeans. Do you have anything like that with you?”

“Yeah, I do, Coulson mentioned that,” Fitz said. “Did Tri…Antoine mention if he’d been listening in on Storch since he’s been back in his room?”

Jemma shook her head. “No, but he would have said if he’d heard anything important.” She pointed at the wall. “Where did the scanner go?”

Fitz glowered at the wall. “Trust me when I tell you that you don’t want to see everything that goes on in there,” he replied.

Jemma looked repulsed. “Oh god, was he…?”

“The less said about it, the better,” he replied sullenly as he shook a shirt and a pair of trousers out of his suitcase. He could feel her looking at him, and he glanced up to see a strange expression on her face. He’d always thought Jemma’s face was the most familiar thing in the world to him, but he hadn’t able to read her expressions lately. It was like she had a whole range of new ones he’d never seen before. Or at least a new way of looking at him, and he couldn’t quite figure out what it meant. He placed his clothes over his arm and started walking towards the bathroom.

“It must have looked hot,” she said as he walked past her.

“What?” He stopped and looked at her in bewilderment. She had another strange look on her face. This one looked almost…sultry.

“In the hall. Us. When we kissed. For him to be…you know…it must have looked really hot.” She gave a little shrug and looked up at him from beneath lowered eyelids before turning away to start curling her hair.

Fitz’s mouth hung open and his ears burned as he stared back at her. He didn’t know much about women, it was true, and Jemma was his best friend of ten years, so it seemed unlikely, but that remark sounded for all the world like she was flirting with him. He had thought her behaviour out by the pool after she had taken her dress off had seemed flirty too. And the way she had kissed him, the way she had responded when he kissed her back...it had felt so real, it had felt like she wanted it as much as he did. It occurred to him that these strange looks he’d been trying to interpret recently were all a little…seductive? Was that the right word? No, this couldn’t be right. His frustration was obviously messing with his head now, making him wish Jemma was really his fiancée, making him think that she was coming onto him when she was probably just making perfectly innocent conversation. He walked into the bathroom in a daze, shutting the door behind him. But that comment just now, that was pretty unmistakeable, was it not? Or was she deliberately trying to mess with him? _What the hell was going on?!_


	9. Dinner and Dessert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tension builds between Fitz and Jemma during dinner, but a surprise waits in store for them.

Jemma applied the finishing touches of her make-up and stood back to scrutinise herself in the mirror. She tugged at her dress and wondered if Skye would think she looked like a Sunday School teacher in this too. God knows, Fitz hadn’t seemed too impressed with it. As she popped her mascara wand back into the tube, she gave a deep sigh, trying to relieve the heavy feeling in her chest. But the weight remained. She had been trying so hard to fight these thoughts she’d been having about Fitz, so really she should have been relieved by his reluctance, but for some strange reason it was actually upsetting her. She had given him every invitation this afternoon to repeat that kiss they’d had in the hallway, but he had seemed irritated by her overtures more than anything else. The logical part of her wondered if maybe his irritation was on account of a gentlemanly struggle to control the lust his face had betrayed earlier by the pool. But her insecurity was telling her that he didn’t like her flirty behaviour because he didn’t want her. And insecurity was winning the argument.

The door to the bathroom opened and Fitz emerged in a heady waft of shower gel and aftershave. His hair was adorably fluffy, and the pale blue shirt he had on rendered his cerulean eyes absolutely mesmerising. He normally wore his shirts out, but he had tucked this one in and the fitted black trousers he was wearing made his arse look incredible. She had an overwhelming urge to throw herself at him again, but the fear he might pull away was enough to keep her rooted to the spot. As he strapped on his watch, his eyes met hers with an expression she couldn’t quite work out. It was part uncertain, part inquisitive, a little bit thoughtful perhaps, but there was something else there too. For one thing, he never seemed to take his eyes off her, but watched her every move while she spritzed herself with perfume and gathered up her purse. And despite his conflicted expression, there was a hint of heat in his gaze that she tried hard not to think too much about. She didn’t want to start thinking along those lines again, only to be disappointed when he backed off once more.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked. She nodded and began to move towards the door. Fitz lifted his wallet and slipped it in his back pocket, and then dived in front of her to open the door. “You, ah…you look lovely, Jemma,” he stuttered, blushing as he held the door open for her. She looked at him in surprise. In ten years of friendship, Fitz had literally never said anything like that to her before. There was a long period where she had actually wondered if he knew she was a girl at all. Not that she had ever wanted anything more from him before now – although she did have to admit, it did always irk her a little every time he got a crush on some new girl they encountered, fawning over her and all but ignoring Jemma in the process. It had been like that when Skye first joined the team. He had stopped following her around like a puppy a long time ago, but Jemma wondered if that was just because field work had taught him subtlety. The thought of field work reminded Jemma then that they were supposed to be undercover, and that the corridor was a public space. The compliment was merely Fitz getting back into character, she realised dully.

“Thank you, Leo,” she replied, smiling graciously at him as she stepped out into the hall. Almost simultaneously, the door beside them opened and Dr Storch walked out into the hall. Fitz immediately leapt to her side, putting himself between her and Storch as he slipped his arm around her. Storch greeted them with a nod and a sly grin.

“Going down to dinner?” he asked them. “I’ll walk down with you.”

Fitz had a fixed smile on his face. “Great,” he said, in what Jemma knew to be his least enthused tone of voice. He was holding her very protectively to himself, and so she put her two arms around his waist. It fitted their cover, but it was also because Storch genuinely creeped her out. Plus, she liked being so close to Fitz, especially when he smelled so good. They walked down the corridor like that, with Storch walking beside them.

“So what branch of medicine are you in…I’m sorry, your fiancé here told me your name, but I’ve forgotten it,” Storch said to her. Fitz tightened his grip, and Jemma rubbed his back reassuringly.

“Oh, it’s Jemma,” she replied as pleasantly as she could. “And I’m a trauma surgeon.”

“That’s an unpleasant business for a pretty thing like you,” Storch said with a leer. Fitz inhaled sharply and Jemma gave his waist a warning squeeze.

“Looks are no barrier to being able to cut into someone’s stomach,” she replied sweetly.

Storch looked momentarily shocked and Fitz’s whipped his head around to stare at her in unabashed awe. Storch began to laugh uproariously then. “She’s feisty, that one,” he guffawed, looking at Fitz. “I’d keep an eye on her, if I were you.”

Fitz gave him a tight smile. “If by ‘feisty’ you mean brilliant and capable and brave, then yes, she is,” he replied politely. “Jemma’s amazing. But I wouldn’t dare try to ‘keep an eye’ on her. She doesn’t need me looking over her shoulder, and believe me when I tell you, Max, I’ve seen her wielding a scalpel, and you do not want to get on the wrong side of that.” He forced a chuckle, but Jemma could hear the anger in it. She placed her hand on his chest in an attempt to placate him. It would not help the mission if Fitz managed to piss off their target.

“Oh, babe, stop, you’re embarrassing me,” she said in the same breathy voice she’d used earlier. “He’s so proud, this one, he gets a little carried away sometimes.” She gave a little giggle and leaned her head affectionately on his shoulder. Fitz rubbed her arm and turned his head to look at her. She smiled up at him, but the smile froze on her face when she saw the look in his eyes. The intensity of his gaze almost took her breath away.

“Well, this is what I’m saying to you, Leo, it’s not safe to let a woman play with knives,” Storch chuckled. “I have two ex-wives I’d live in fear of if I thought they knew how to use a blade. You need to keep this lady under control. But luxury hotel rooms and a little bit of afternoon delight should definitely do the trick.” He gave them a lewd wink, before looking Jemma up and down in a lascivious manner. She repressed a shudder and grasped the back of Fitz’s shirt as she felt him start forward in rage. She lifted her other hand and stroked the side of Fitz’s face. It was so easy to be this affectionate with him, and although it was part of a performance, she felt like she couldn’t get close enough to his body. Fitz was openly glaring at Storch who was still laughing at his own joke as they waited for the elevator to arrive.

“Oh, I might be good with knives, but I would never use them on Leo,” she cooed, gazing adoringly at Fitz. “He doesn’t need to keep me under control, because he already knows I’m all his. I’ll do anything he wants me to.” Fitz looked at her in bewilderment, and she nuzzled the side of his face in order to hide his expression from Storch. The elevator doors opened and she pulled Fitz into it, standing on her tiptoes to plant her lips on his again. This time he was quicker to return her kiss, lifting his hand to gently cup her face. The heat she had felt earlier flooded her lower belly like a gushing river breaking a dam. She wrapped her arms tight around his neck and opened her mouth against his, emitting a little whine as he responded in kind. Again, she wasn’t sure if she’d done it deliberately or not. She was only vaguely aware of Storch awkwardly chuckling behind them as Fitz deepened his kiss.

“You know what guys? You take this one, I’ll wait for the next. It looks like you two want to be alone,” Storch said. They both ignored him, losing themselves in the slow, intense, leg-melting kiss. The doors shut behind them and after a few seconds, they very reluctantly broke apart. Fitz’s eyes were dark and unfocused as he gazed at her lips, his own still slightly parted. Jemma's body was jelly and her legs had lost the power to hold the rest of her upright, so she gently lowered her arms to grab onto the rails behind her. Fitz lifted his eyes to meet hers and she held his gaze for a moment.

“What was all that about with the ‘I’ll do anything for him,’ and the kissing and everything?” he asked softly. “How did you know that would work? How did you know he wouldn’t get in the lift?”

“I didn’t, I took a chance,” she replied. “Mostly it was to make sure you didn’t do anything stupid and rush at him or anything,” she said, with an exasperated smile.

He lowered his head and shook it. “I couldn’t stand him talking about you that way, or looking at you like that, Jemma,” he said with a glower.

She reached out and grabbed the front of his shirt placatingly. “I know, but it could have ruined the mission, Fitz. I think he’s the kind of man who gets off on making people uncomfortable. It gives him a kind of power. He wanted you to feel threatened, that’s why he was looking at me and talking to me that way. But if he thinks you’re actually dominant, and I ‘belong’ to you, as it were, if I’m submissive to you, then he feels like he has no power over either you or me, and that would annoy someone like him. The public display was to signify your ownership, and so it didn’t have quite the same voyeuristic appeal to him as our earlier one. He didn’t get into the lift because it made him feel…frustrated, not powerful.”

Fitz slowly nodded his understanding. “How do you know all this stuff?” he asked.

She shrugged. “It’s biology. Basic animal mating behaviour. Storch is not exactly an evolved man. He appears to be very animalistic in his tendencies.” The lift came to a stop and Fitz’s head suddenly shot up in panic as he frantically adjusted his trousers. Jemma’s eyes widened as she glimpsed the bulge there. The knowledge that she had genuinely turned him on sent a little thrill zipping through her body, and she bit her lip in delight. The doors opened and Fitz quickly pulled his shirt out over his trousers, tugging it down flat. Jemma suppressed a little giggle, until she started to walk and realised that the air between her legs was cool, despite the warm evening. Her knickers were damp – in fact they were clinging to her. As she glanced down at herself, she saw that her nipples were prominent at the front of her dress as well, and she groaned. She crossed her arms over her chest and cursed herself for not bringing a cardigan down with her. She looked back at Fitz walking behind her, and noticed that his gait was slightly awkward. The sooner they both got seated at their table the better.

Skye and Trip hadn’t arrived at the restaurant yet. The hostess showed them to their table, and they took their seats, unable to meet each other’s eyes now that they were in public and the reality of their heated moment in the lift was sinking in. Jemma held her menu in front of her, both to hide her erect nipples and to avoid having to look at Fitz. She sneaked a glance over the top of it though, and noted that he seemed equally engrossed in his perusal of dinner choices. She was about to break the awkward silence by asking him what he wanted, when she spotted Skye and Trip entering the restaurant, Storch coming just behind them.

“Oh my god, look at these two,” Jemma exclaimed. “They look like a celebrity couple.” Fitz turned his head to look. Skye was wearing a tiny black strapless dress, black strappy heels and long dangly earrings. Trip was wearing a black suit and a white shirt with the top button opened. Once again, every head in the restaurant turned to look at the two of them.

Fitz turned back to Jemma with a puzzled expression. “Where the hell do they think they’re going? Are they hitting a club after this? They look like the Beckhams or something.” He leaned across the table to Jemma. “For spies, they’re attracting a lot of attention,” he muttered.

Jemma faltered slightly at this reaction. The nagging thought that he might be jealous over Skye once again raised its chilling head, even after his very physical response to her in the lift.

“I think maybe that’s the point,” she said, shrugging. “They look like they’re used to staying in five-star hotels. They look like a wealthy, glamorous couple, who revel in the attention. They don’t look shady or suspicious, not like they’re here to follow someone. It’s very clever actually. And they look gorgeous.” She smiled ruefully at Fitz. “People must wonder why they’re friends with us. We look very low-key compared to them.”

Fitz looked incredulous. “Me maybe, but not you. You look like a model. I think the hard part for people to swallow is the idea that I’m engaged to you.”

Jemma stared back at him in astonishment, but Skye and Trip arrived at their table before she could say anything. Fitz had returned to fastidiously studying his menu, and Jemma noticed that the tips of his ears had gone pink. Skye and Trip were chattering away, discussing what they were going to order, playing the part of the power couple to perfection. Trip even ordered a bottle of champagne for the table. The woman who had been sunbathing beside Storch earlier sat at a table behind them, eating by herself. Storch sat at the table opposite them, watching everyone in the restaurant while he ate, still with that smug expression he always had on his face. He’d brought his book with him again, but it sat unopened on the table for the entire meal. He glanced over at them now and again, and Jemma made sure to place her hand on Fitz’s arm or gaze lovingly at him when he spoke. Fitz seemed to get a little embarrassed when she did this, but at least his back was to Storch and the man couldn’t see his face. She did notice Storch taking a great interest in Skye and Trip. At one point, when Trip laughed loudly at something Skye said, Jemma observed an almost bitter, resentful look flash across Storch’s face as he regarded Trip. Storch seemed like the kind of man who had been intimidated by alpha males like Trip all his life, and Jemma already knew he hated women as well. Storch was someone who was used to feeling powerless, so whatever this 0-8-4 was, it was something that gave Storch a sense of power, one he wasn’t ready to let go. That was why he had absconded with it. Maybe Fitz was right. Maybe the 0-8-4 was something that worked on people, not computers.

Despite the proximity of their target, the four of them had a very enjoyable meal together, and it occurred to Jemma that they didn’t get to do this kind of thing very often. They were in the midst of dessert when Storch got up from his table. The sunbathing woman left her table at the same time so Trip got up to follow them both, under the guise of finding the bathroom. Jemma was a little relieved when he left, as she was beginning to find the sight of him and Skye feeding each other tiramisu a tad uncomfortable. Judging by the look on his face, Fitz found it downright nauseating. They had exchanged a silent look which contained an agreement that this was one display of affection they’d be happy to forego, even as part of their cover.

As they waited for Trip to return, Skye received a text which she smiled at, and loudly said “Awwwwww!”as she showed it to Jemma and Fitz. She was so convincing that Jemma was actually expecting it to be a cute photo or a sweet message from someone and was momentarily confused when she realised it was a status report from Trip. Storch had gone into the bar and the woman had followed him. Trip was now sure that she was following Storch, and was probably working for Quinn. He’d seen her muttering to herself during dinner, and figured that she had an earpiece and was talking to someone over comms. So they needed to keep an eye on her as well, and to make sure they maintained cover at all times, in case Quinn had other people in the hotel. Trip suggested that they make their way to the bar.

Trip’s theory about the woman was confirmed for Jemma when they walked into the bar to find her openly flirting with a delighted Storch. She was a young and very attractive woman with long dark hair, and Storch definitely did not look like her type. Jemma shuddered at the predatory manner in which he was eyeing the woman up and down. There was no way she could find that attractive, she was either a high class prostitute or she was tailing him. Skye and Trip continued with their overly amorous behaviour so Jemma reasoned that it was probably wise to sit close to Fitz and lean against him, as they took their seats. Fitz responded by putting his arm around her. After a few more glasses of wine, Jemma was tempted to put her hand on his thigh, but it was under the table where no-one would actually see and she thought maybe Fitz would find that an unnecessary invasion of boundaries. She contented herself with placing a hand on his knee when she leaned across him to say something to Skye, and she didn’t bother to remove it when she sat back. He appeared not to mind however, and instead periodically stroked his hand idly up and down her lower back, sending little frissons of shivery pleasure rippling over her skin. It occurred to her that nobody else in the bar could see him doing that either, and she slid her hand higher up his leg.

Eventually Storch and the woman got up and left the bar. This time, Skye followed them. After about 10 minutes, Trip got a text from Skye saying that she had watched them go up to Storch’s room, but the woman had come back out five minutes later looking pissed. She proceeded to make a phone call and Skye had only heard one thing before she hung up – ‘ _I couldn’t find anything._ ’ Clearly she was looking for the 0-8-4. She had no doubt given Storch something to knock him out. The woman then got into an elevator and so was probably heading towards the lobby. Skye was going to check on Storch, so Trip got up to see where the woman was going.

That left Fitz and Jemma alone in the bar. Jemma was suddenly very, very aware of his arm around her and his thigh beneath her hand. Neither of them moved. In an instant, the air around them changed, becoming heavy, crackling with anticipation. Jemma felt she should speak but she was terrified to dispel the expectant atmosphere. Slowly, she turned her head to look up at him, willing him to kiss her again – this time without an audience. He turned his head to look back at her, the charge in the air electrifying his blue eyes in a way that was almost suffocating. Hesitantly they leant in towards each other…and jumped apart as Fitz’s phone buzzed on the table.

“Shit!” Fitz exclaimed angrily. He lifted the phone and read the message. “That’s Trip. The woman went outside and got in a car, so she’s probably on her way back to Quinn. He said Skye says Storch is passed out on his bed, with his trousers around his ankles.” Fitz made a disgusted face, which Jemma felt probably mirrored her own.

“Poor Skye, having to see that,” she said sympathetically. 

“Trip says we’re done, so we can call it a night. Skye hacked into the hotel’s system and ascertained that Storch has requested an 8.30 wake-up call, so we need to be up by that time. He’ll see us at breakfast,” Fitz continued as he read from his phone. He looked at Jemma awkwardly. “So we should just…go to bed then…”

Jemma’s stomach did a loop. “Yes, I suppose we should,” she replied nervously. They both started to get up, unable to look each other in the eye. “Oh, I’ll need to get some water if I don’t want to be hungover tomorrow,” Jemma said as she lifted her purse.

“I’ll get it,” Fitz told her, as he moved towards the bar.

“Thank you, Leo. I’m just going to nip to the loo, I’ll meet you back here in a minute,” she replied.

She hurried to the bathroom, feeling excited and nervous. She had no idea what was going to happen when they got back to their room. She wasn’t even sure if she actually wanted anything to happen or not, but there was no denying the tension that had been building between her and Fitz all night. All day in fact. Her panties were in a sodden state by this stage, so she took them off and shoved them in her purse. She washed her hands and returned to the bar where Fitz was waiting with two bottles of water in his hands. She clutched her stomach, hoping that the butterflies that she was feeling didn’t show on her face. It didn’t help that Fitz looked extremely nervous, and avoided meeting her eyes as he handed her one of the bottles.

“All set then?” he said, as he awkwardly offered his arm to her. Smiling shyly at him, she slid her arm through his and nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She didn’t know what to say either, desperately trying to think of something to break the tension. Just as she was about to ask him about the plan for tomorrow, Fitz came to a sudden halt.

“ _What the…?!_ ” he said incredulously, as he looked out towards the pool area. Jemma glanced in the direction he was looking, but couldn’t see anything apart from the soft light glowing on the surface of the water. Fitz broke away from her and walked over to the archway that led out to the pool, hiding himself behind one of the supports as he peeked out around it. He looked back at Jemma with an astounded expression on his face, and beckoned quickly towards her. She hurried over, and leaned over his shoulder to see what he was looking at. Over at the other end of the pool, where there was absolutely no-one else in sight, Skye and Trip were locked in a very passionate embrace, their tongues practically down each other’s throats, and their hands grabbing everywhere on each other’s bodies. Trip squeezed Skye’s ass and Fitz and Jemma looked at each other in shock.

“ _Oh my god!_ ” Fitz exclaimed. “ _They’re really doing it!_ ”


	10. Boiling Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The revelation about Skye and Trip leads to an argument...and then other things. Smut ahead!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this chapter a little early as I'm going away for the weekend. Enjoy!

Skye and Trip broke apart and started to walk back into the hotel towards them. Fitz grabbed Jemma and pulled her behind the arch to hide. Their friends passed without seeing them, stopping in front of the elevator where they started kissing again as they waited for it to arrive. Fitz turned to exchange an astonished look with Jemma, realising as he did so that her face was only inches from his own, and her body was pressed right up against his. He held his breath and flattened himself against the wall, hoping his anatomy wouldn’t react to her proximity. He had been half-hard all day, and he wasn’t sure how much more his cock could take. Thankfully the doors to the lift opened and Trip walked Skye backwards into it, his mouth on hers the whole time. As the doors closed again, Jemma peeled herself off Fitz and stood back, her mouth agape as she stared at the elevator.

“Did that just happen tonight?” she asked him. “Or do you think it’s happened before? I mean, are they together or…?”

“I don’t know,” he said, watching her face carefully. “But they did look very comfortable hanging all over each other all day. There were a few times I kind of thought it seemed a bit much.”

“Yes, I wondered about that too,” she replied. “In hindsight now, it looks like this might have been going on for a while.”

His heart clattered to the floor as he watched her face. There was definitely hurt in her eyes. He had thought after what happened in the lift earlier that maybe she returned his feelings, but he had been an idiot to think that, he realised now. Swallowing the hurt like a bitter pill, he placed a hand on Jemma’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Jemma” he said.

She glanced at his hand in surprise and then looked up at his face. “For what?” she asked blankly.

“Well, I mean you’re obviously upset.”

“Yeah, well, I’m a _little_ annoyed, to be honest.”

“Maybe she doesn’t know that you like him.”

“What??!” Jemma’s head whipped round to stare at him. “What are you talking about?! I don’t like Trip!!”

“I thought you did!! You used to like him anyway.”

“For about five minutes, Fitz, when he first joined the team! And even then I think it was only because I was so flattered that he was flirting with me. It took me a while to realise that Trip flirts with everyone.”

“Oh!” he replied, trying not to show the relief flooding through him so fast it was making him giddy.

“I can’t believe you thought I liked him!” she continued in affront, her eyes ablaze. “After we…after I…I mean, you…I just can’t believe you!” she finished irritably, looking away from him.

“Well, why are you annoyed then?” he cried in exasperation. “If you don’t like him?”

“Because Skye didn’t tell me! We’re supposed to be best friends and she’s involved with someone and she didn’t tell me! That’s against girl code, Fitz!”

“Ah!” he said, in realisation. “Yeah, actually, that does seem odd that she didn’t say anything. Skye’s normally one for oversharing about her personal life, it doesn’t seem like her to keep something like this to herself.”

Jemma looked at him anxiously. “Are…are you annoyed about it?” she asked hesitantly.

He looked at her blankly and shook his head. “No, not really. I’m actually quite happy not be kept in the loop about Skye’s sex life.”

“Oh, I see,” she said in a quiet voice, looking down at the floor. He looked at her in confusion. She started to walk away towards the lift. He followed her.

“Jemma?” he called after her. She didn’t look round. “Jemma, what’s the matter?” he asked. “What did I say?”

She whirled around to face him, her face flushed. “You didn’t have to kiss me back,” she said in a low accusatory tone. “Not if you liked Skye!”

“WHAT??!!”

Fitz’s voice echoed throughout the lobby. They both looked round in a panic to see whether anyone had heard them. The lobby was empty, and Fitz turned back to Jemma. “I don’t like Skye!” he hissed. “How can you even think that?”

“Well, you were the one who said you didn’t want to know about her sex life,” Jemma returned in a fierce whisper.

“Because it’s too much information and I’d prefer she kept it to herself!” he whispered back. “Not because I care! Jesus, Jemma!”

“Well, you used to like her! When she first joined the team, you were like a puppy around her, constantly tripping over yourself trying to impress her!”

“I did not!! I have never behaved like that in my life, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered angrily. Jemma rolled her eyes. “Okay, yes, there was a very brief period, when we’d just met Skye and she was all new and exciting and I was maybe a little bit interested in her, but that was a lifetime ago, Jemma! Skye’s like family to me now, I don’t think of her that way. And I never acted like a puppy around her! Not like you, constantly flashing your big doe eyes at Trip!”

Jemma’s mouth hung open in outrage. Fitz put up his hands to stall a tirade. “Look, can we not have this fight in the lobby?” he whispered urgently. “All I’m trying to say is that you were offended earlier that I thought you still liked Trip, and then you turned round and said you thought I liked Skye. And I don’t know how you can think that after…” He closed his mouth shut, afraid he was going to say something stupid and ruin everything.

“After what, Fitz?” She was looking at him intently. He leaned past her and pressed the lift button. “Let’s just get up to the room, shall we, before we completely blow our cover,” he said.

The lift doors opened and they both walked in, Jemma flouncing over to one corner of it and folding her arms, as she pouted prettily. Fitz tried not to look at her lips as he tapped the rails impatiently, waiting for the lift to arrive at their floor. He was utterly confused now – it seemed like in the course of one day, his ten-year relationship with Jemma had run entirely off the rails, and he had no idea what the hell it even was anymore. They had been kissing and touching and flirting and fighting all day and his head was dizzy with it because he didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t. That incredible kiss in the lift had seemed real, and then the way Jemma had grabbed his leg in the bar, even though no-one could see it. He had been getting a really strong sense that she wanted more, although he couldn’t explain why. Just something in the way she looked at him and spoke to him and touched him. He was sure they had been about to kiss before that message from Trip and it really seemed like something was going to happen, but then they’d had that misunderstanding and all hell had broken loose. He wasn’t even sure what that fight had been about, or what she was annoyed about now.

The lift doors opened and they walked back to their room in tense silence. It was only when they opened the door that Fitz suddenly remembered that they were going to have to sleep in the same bed. He groaned internally at the idea of what torture that would be. As Jemma lifted something out of her suitcase and went into the bathroom, Fitz hit on another problem. He normally just slept in his boxers and a t-shirt, but knowing he was going to be sharing a room with Jemma, he had brought a pair of pyjamas with him. But it was way too hot for pyjamas. And Fitz hated being too hot. He was going to have to sleep in his shorts, he decided. Even those were a bit too warm for the balmy night, but it was better than the long pyjama trousers he had brought.

He changed quickly while Jemma was in the bathroom, and was in the midst of pulling his t-shirt over his head as he heard her come out. His head popped out of the neck in time to see her walking down the steps towards him. She was wearing a tight-fitting camisole and a tiny pair of clingy shorts that barely covered her arse. Fuck. Jesus Christ. He knew he was staring but he couldn’t help it. She might as well have worn the bloody bikini again. This couldn’t go on. He was going to have to say something.

“Where are you going?” she asked as she frowned in puzzlement at him.

“Nowhere,” he replied, trying to avoid looking at her as he pulled his t-shirt down. “I’m going to bed.”

“In your shorts? You didn’t bring anything to wear to bed?”

“I did, but it’s too warm.”

“So sleep in your boxers,” she shrugged.

He covered his face with his hands and laughed. “Yeah, that’s a really good idea,” he said sarcastically, as he dropped his hands. “I’ll sleep in my boxers while you lie in what might as well be underwear beside me, because that’s not going to be embarrassing for me at all!”

“What the bloody hell are you talking about?” she replied crossly.

“You!” he cried. “You’re a bloody biochemist, and yet you seem to lack any understanding of basic male biology! You spend all day being practically naked and kissing me and touching me and fucking showering in front of me like you’re in some soft porn movie, and saying flirty, sexy things, and you don’t seem to understand that stuff like that has an effect on a man, Jemma! You’re a beautiful woman, a very, very beautiful woman and there are things that happen, very… _prominent_ , _visible_ things that are very embarrassing, and also quite painful, and you’re my best friend, and I’m trying to be respectful here, because I do respect you, very much, but it’s just that this is very hard for me…pun not intended,” he added quickly, replacing his hands over his face in mortification as he realised what he just said.“I’m just asking you to please… have mercy,” he continued, taking his hands down and putting them on his hips as he looked at the floor, “because I know we’re undercover and we’re supposed to be engaged, but there’s a line and you keep crossing it, and I don’t know if you mean to or if you know you’re doing it, but it’s confusing the hell out of me and I don’t know what you want me to do.” He glanced up to see her looking back at him with her arms folded and yet another unreadable expression on her face.

“Well, Leo,” she said calmly, “it appears that you have no understanding of basic _female_ biology. Because the fact of the matter is that we can get turned on too. By kissing and touching and flirting and all those things you mentioned, and by hot guys staring at us when we wear bikinis. True, it’s not as visible when woman get turned on as it is when a guy does, but it’s still pretty uncomfortable when you’re sitting in a restaurant in a thin strappy dress with your nipples standing to attention, and your knickers are damp and you have to go into the bathroom to take them off.”

Fitz felt the blood rushing to his genitals so fast there was a ringing in his ears and his limbs felt limp. “What?” he whispered weakly. She walked over to where her bag was sitting, opened it and dropped a pair of scrunched up lacy knickers onto the floor in front of him. He stared down at them as he tried to breathe through the throbbing in his chest and groin.

“It’s very frustrating,” she continued, “and confusing to spend all day flirting and kissing and touching a guy, way above and beyond what’s actually required for the cover you’ve been ordered to maintain, and then for him to stand in front of you and tell you that he doesn’t know what the hell you’re doing!”

Fitz felt his breathing coming fast and hard as he stared at her, standing in front of him in her body-hugging camisole and shorts, all that smooth, creamy skin sprinkled with kissable freckles, and _Christ_ …her nipples now visibly erect through her top. She moved slowly towards him as she gazed up at him with huge, black eyes.

“Especially when all you’ve wanted all day is for that guy to just grab you and pin you up against the nearest wall,” she murmured in a strangely shy voice.

Before his brain had even registered what he was doing, Fitz had grasped her face in his hands and was kissing her harder than he ever thought he would have dared. His few previous encounters with women – when he’d had them, a lifetime ago now – had all tended towards the more awkward side of things, so a part of him felt like he was outside his body looking down. He wondered who this guy was who had just grabbed his best friend and was confidently and passionately kissing her. But Jemma was responding enthusiastically, her tongue frantically searching his mouth like it had lost something, her needy little whines practically scrambling his brain. The exquisite tension building in his lower belly was flooding his body with liquid heat, dissolving everything in its path. All other functions had ceased to exist; he was nothing now but both instrument of, and receptacle for, pleasure. Jemma’s hands seemed to be everywhere at once, and it wasn’t enough. His own were tangled in her hair, then they were moving down her back as she pressed so hard against him it was like she was trying to fuse their bodies together. He was nearly breathless with how eager she was for his kiss and his touch. He felt her hands on his arse as she moaned and sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, so he followed her lead and grabbed her arse, squeezing it like he’d wanted to do all day. It felt oh so good in his hands and he groaned in agonised desire. He could feel the sweat beading on his forehead, but he was practically vibrating with need now. It was almost unbearable and in desperation he lifted her off her feet and swung her round, moving blindly towards the bed, their mouths still locked together.

He pulled his lips away with a gasp as he threw her down on the bed, climbing onto his hands and knees above her. He had no idea how he was doing all this, but some other primal instinct had taken over and he was more than happy to let it. Almost writhing below him, Jemma bit her lip, vainly trying to suppress a moan as she slid both her hands up inside his t-shirt, over his bare chest. He grimaced when he felt them glide over the layer of sweat covering his skin but she didn’t seem to mind. Kneeling back he grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it over his head while Jemma dragged her fingers back down over his abdomen. She then attempted to push her hands up inside the bottom of his shorts, along his thighs. It was like she couldn’t touch him enough and it was driving him wild. He pulled her hands out and laced his fingers through hers, pushing them back over her head as he lowered himself back down on top of her. He captured her lips with his own, kissing her hard until she whimpered against his tongue. Letting go of both her hands and her mouth and propping himself up with one arm, he desperately and wildly explored her body with his other hand. He wanted to touch everywhere at once, but it wasn’t possible. He was throbbing with need and Jemma was wantonly thrusting her hips where she lay on the bed, so he pushed his hand up roughly over her shorts and camisole, and grabbed her breast. She gasped and arched her back to push it further into his hand. He squeezed it lightly and then harder as she lowered her arms to grab his bum again, pushing him into her pelvis as she ground against his hip. He groaned again, even more at the visual display of her pleasure than the experience of his own. Moving his mouth to her neck, he slid his hand up inside her camisole and over her naked breast. The thrill of touching it made his breath catch in his throat. It was tantalisingly soft and firm at the same time and a satisfyingly perfect fit for the span of his hand. He ran his thumb over her shockingly hard little nipple, and she moaned loudly. It was too much. Barely in control anymore, he kissed and sucked messily along the length of her throat, not knowing what he was doing. Jemma appeared to take over, whining as she slipped her hands down the back of his shorts and slid them around the inside of his waistband to the front. She pulled them out and began to fumble with his button and zip. Panting like a dog, he pushed himself up to help her, tugging frantically at his shorts to get them off. As he shed them, exposing the hardness straining against his boxers, Jemma's eyes widened and she made an unbearably erotic sound, somewhere between a gasp and a moan.  Her hand reached down and brushed against him.

“Jesus! Fuck! Don’t do that,” he gasped. “Not unless you want this to be over in another few seconds.” She moaned again and pulled him back down on top of her, sucking his tongue back into her mouth. He groaned in return, and feeling like he'd had as much as he could take, he grabbed the waistband of her shorts and started to pull them down.

“Fitz, wait!” she said suddenly.

“Oh god, what, what is it, what did I do?” he asked in alarm, pushing himself off her as quick as he could.

“No, no, it’s okay!” she said quickly, grabbing his hands. “It’s just…do you have anything?”

“Anything?” He was utterly confused as to what she meant.

“Prophylactic,” she whispered.

The realisation sucked the blood from his face and made his heart stutter in anticipation of imminent and soul-crushing disappointment. “No,” he whispered in horror. “ _Fuck_!”


	11. Despair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz and Jemma contemplate what to do about their emergency situation, but reality comes crashing home. Some smut in this chapter, but don't get excited - it's not what you think!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is a bit late. I was away at the weekend and I've been sick since I got back, because I have a low immune system and I always get sick when I fly! Anyway, by way of apology, I'll be posting the next chapter in the next day or so.

Fitz felt a rushing in his ears as the realisation of their predicament struck him with a crash. “I didn’t…I wasn’t expecting…are you not…on…anything?” he asked.

“Why would I be on anything?” she whispered back in exasperation. “When was the last time you saw me going on a date?”

“I don’t know,” he replied defensively. “I just…ah, fuck!” He fell back onto his knees in despair, as Jemma threw her head back onto the pillow, groaning. She lifted it again suddenly, a blaze of hope in her eyes.

“You could ask Trip!” she exclaimed.

He gave her an incredulous look. “I’m not going to ask Trip, Jemma!”

“Why not?!”

“Well, for one thing, he’s probably still in the middle of …whatever, with Skye. And secondly, I can’t ask him, because then he’ll know! And, even worse, Skye will know! So we’ll never hear the end of it. And they’ll know that we know about them.”

“So then we’ll be even,” Jemma shrugged.

“Well, you ask them then,” he retorted. She looked at him for a minute, before she shook her head, and lay back down on the pillow again.

“Well, you’ll just have to go back down to the lobby,” she said. “There was a condom machine in the ladies, so I’m assuming there’s one in the gents as well,” she said.

“Oh, yeah, that’s right!” he exclaimed excitedly as he climbed off the bed and reached for his shorts. “Do you have any euro change on you?”

“Me? No, I don’t have any money at all. You don’t have any change?”

Fitz dropped his shorts in despair. “I don’t have any cash left. I spent the last of it in the bar when I was buying the water. Fuck!”

“Shit!” Jemma covered her face with her hands. He looked at her lying there, her top pushed right up to the underside of her breasts, her shorts halfway down her hips, the heat of the room glistening on her skin, her legs slightly apart and was that…Fitz groaned under his breath as he noticed for the first time a damp patch on the gusset of her shorts. _She was so wet!_ God, she was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen in his life. And she wanted him. He cursed his lack of preparedness. Of all the things he had ever regretted in his life, none of them had ever made him hate himself more than this missed opportunity.

“Are you sure you can’t ask Trip?” she asked him as she squeezed her legs together.

He thought about it momentarily, and then shook his head. “If it was Hunter, I could ask Hunter,” Fitz reasoned.

“Why could you ask Hunter, but not Trip?!” Jemma asked in disbelief.

“Because it’s the kind of embarrassing shit Hunter would pull himself, knocking on your door in the middle of the night looking for a condom! He’d understand, he’d be sympathetic,” he explained. “Trip would never do that. Trip would always be prepared, he’s so fucking cool. Asking him would just be…humiliating. Plus, Hunter wouldn’t ask any questions, he wouldn’t even need to know who you needed it for. With Trip, there’d be a whole interrogation and…” He looked at her hesitantly.

“What?” she asked.

“Are you really okay with him and Skye knowing? I mean, what is this? What are we doing? We haven’t even talked about this, what are we going to tell them?”

Jemma propped herself up on the bed to look at him. She looked for a minute like she was going to argue, but then she sighed. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” she said reluctantly. “This probably does need a little more thought and discussion.” She pulled her camisole down and fixed her shorts.

Fitz sank down on the edge of the bed. He wanted to cry. His cock was still throbbing and his balls were aching. He was also seriously overheated and sweating profusely and starting to feel very irritable. He wasn’t sure what to do now. He stood up again quickly and walked over to where he had left the water bottles earlier. He opened one and took a long gulp, as he threw the other over to Jemma. Then he picked his shorts off the floor. “I’m going to go outside on the balcony for a minute. I need to cool down,” he said, shaking out his shorts. “Do you want to come out, or…?”

She thought for a minute, looking like she was going to cry. “No thanks,” she answered eventually, in a subdued voice. “We’ve an early start so I think I’m just going to get some sleep.”

“You okay?” he asked doubtfully.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Are…we okay?” she asked hesitantly.

The uncertain look she gave him pulled at his heart. He went over to the bed and sat down beside her, placing his hand on her leg, stroking the soft skin with his thumb. “Of course, Jemma. Always. No matter what.”

“Good,” she replied as she pushed herself up on the bed and placed her hand over his, keeping her eyes fixed on it. “Because I don’t know what I’d do if we weren’t friends anymore. But tonight…what we just did, what we were about to…I really wanted this as well.” Her eyes flickered up to his face. “I still do,” she whispered.

“So do I,” he murmured as he gazed back at her. “ _So fucking much_.”

“So what are we going to do, Fitz?” she asked.

“You mean now or…?”

“Well, there’s not really anything we can do now,” she said with a bitter laugh. “I meant in general.”

He closed his eyes and sighed. “I don’t know. I really don’t.” He opened his eyes again. “What I do know is that right now I need to cool off…in more ways than one. So I’m going to go outside and then we’ll sleep on it. We’ll talk about it tomorrow if we get a chance.”

She glanced at him thoughtfully. “You know tomorrow…well, we’ll have an opportunity to buy…” Her voice trailed off and she bit her lip as she quirked her eyebrow at him.

She was trying to kill him, she really was. He gave a despairing laugh and covered his eyes with his hands. “Oh, Jesus Christ, Jemma! First of all, don’t say things like that when I’m here trying to…you know…let things… _calm down_.”

“Again,” she admonished him, “I have unfulfilled needs here too, pal. You’re not the only one suffering.”

For a split second, he looked at her, thinking about all the ways he could take care of her needs without needing a condom. All the things he wanted so badly to do to her, had been thinking about doing to her for so long. But they were all very, very intimate things, some of which he had never done with any woman before, never mind his best friend and favourite person in the world - the last person he wanted to upset or offend or embarrass. He didn’t know how she’d feel about doing those things, especially when they were both so unsure of what the hell was happening between them. And that thought brought him back to the reality of the situation, and the potential risks involved to their friendship. “I know, Jemma,” he said at last, “and I’m sorry and I wish I could…do something about that. But we also just agreed that we need to talk about this tomorrow. I would love nothing more than for us to buy the biggest box of condoms we can find first thing tomorrow morning...” he broke off laughing as Jemma sniggered and then broke into giggles. “But,” he continued in a serious tone as her laughter subsided, “I’m also terrified of us rushing into something that you’re going to end up regretting. I would hate that, it would kill me. You mean the world to me, Jemma, and I never want things to be weird between us.”

She leant forward and laid her head against his forearm. “Me neither,” she mumbled.

“Okay,” he said, very gently extracting himself from her. “I’m sorry, Jemma, I don’t mean any offence but I really need for you not to touch me right now. I need to go outside, but I’ll be back in a little while. Unless you want to come out too…?”

She lifted her head and shook it. “I think I’m just going to get into bed,” she replied.

“Okay.” He squeezed her leg, and then got up and pulled his shorts on. He opened the door and walked out onto the balcony, taking another long drink of water. Leaning his elbows on the wall, he gazed out into the dark as he listened to the sound of the waves languidly rolling into the shore like drunken sailors emerging from the water and collapsing onto the beach. The warm breeze on his face was comforting so he closed his eyes to experience it better. His brain valiantly attempted to make some sense of what had just happened, of what he was feeling, but it was to no avail. He was a mass of churning emotions that he couldn’t even begin to unpick. Fortunately the breeze and the sound of the water were relaxing enough to eventually let him just stop thinking at all. It was at that point that he realised how chilly he was. Glancing around he saw that Jemma had turned off the light in the room. He crept in as quietly as he could, gently sliding the door behind him. She was lying on her side, facing away from him. The room was still too stuffy, so he left the door slightly ajar, keeping the heavier curtains open. He slid under the sheet next to her and closed his eyes.

He instantly became hyper-aware of Jemma lying next to him. As it occurred to him that she was lying really still, not making any sound or movement, he realised that she was still awake. The sudden tension in the air pressed down on him, rendering him immobile as well and his heart sped up so much he was afraid she could hear it. He almost jumped when there was a sudden movement and rustling of sheets. Jemma rolled around onto the side facing him. He turned his head very slightly, just enough to make out her open eyes staring back at him. He was about to ask if she was okay when she moved again, scooting closer to him and snuggling into his side. Willing his heart to slow down as the pounding intensified, he gingerly lifted his arm up and she raised her head to let him slide it in under her body. He pulled her in tighter to him and for a moment he could feel her heart drumming in sync with his own. They each lay frozen by the frisson between them. Gradually however the comfort of their closeness began to ease the friction, melting their limbs until they were both heavy with sleep.

Blue-grey dawn light flooded the room. Fitz became vaguely aware of several sensations at once. He was too warm, his face was itchy and there was an ache somewhere in the lower regions of his body. He opened his eyes to see the back of Jemma’s head just inches from his nose, her hair tickling his face. He was curled around her body and her bum was pressed up against his painfully erect cock. Fitz swore under his breath, and Jemma made a little noise of complaint as he rolled away from the warmth of her body, onto his other side. He lay there for a few moments, trying to chase sleep again, but it escaped him. Eventually he slid out of the bed and moved silently towards the bathroom. His mouth felt like it was lined with fur and he remembered that in all the excitement of the previous night, he’d forgotten to brush his teeth. His bladder was beginning to complain as well, but the first thing he needed to do was to take care of the insistent want gripping his genitals like a vice.

He stood over the toilet as he dropped his shorts and boxers, and took himself in his hand. As he squeezed his cock and gave it a few quick pumps, the memories of last night surged through his brain like a tsunami - Jemma writhing and moaning beneath him, his hand over her naked breast, her hand brushing over his cock. He thought about the scrunched up knickers on the floor and the wet patch on her shorts and her hand on his arse and her tongue in his mouth, and he groaned in spite of himself. He ran his thumb over the tip of his penis, coating it in pre-cum which he then smoothed over the rest of his shaft. He couldn’t help himself thinking about actually what it would have been like to actually pull down her shorts and push in to her. Before he knew it, his mind was fucking her hard as she screamed in ecstasy and his hand was pumping furiously. It didn’t take long for his orgasm to shudder through him, almost violently, now that he actually knew what Jemma’s body felt like and how her kisses tasted. It took him a minute to recover, holding on to the top of the toilet to let his heart rate slow. The relief he felt soon became tinged with despair as he realised that his desire for her was now even more intense than it had been before.

He brushed his teeth while he waited for his penis to recover so that he could pee. He contemplated the day ahead. They had a mission to complete and he and Jemma had promised to talk about what happened between them, but all he could think about right now was buying those condoms today and getting Jemma back to their room the first chance he could get. He honestly thought it might kill him if they didn’t have sex soon. As he exited the bathroom, he spotted the welcome basket still sitting on the table. They hadn’t even touched the bottle of champagne that was sitting there. Maybe they could drink it tonight. A plan of sorts was beginning to swirl into being in his head. It was obvious now that Skye and Trip would jump at any opportunity to be alone, so what plausible excuse could he come up with for him and Jemma to stay in their room tonight rather than meet the two of them for dinner? Something to do with the mission, perhaps? Monitoring Storch’s room? Or fake illness? They could order room service and eat dinner on the balcony with the champagne. He wondered where he might get some candles locally.

“Fitz?”

He froze on the steps as he heard her voice. Shit. What had she heard? He had moaned a couple of times in the bathroom, but he’d hoped the sound of the ventilator had drowned him out. He hoped he wasn’t louder than he’d thought.

“Yeah?” The room was still dark enough that he couldn’t make out the expression on her face, but he could see the outline of her head as she propped herself up on the bed.

“What are you doing up so early? Can’t you sleep?” Her voice was soft and adorably sleepy.

“I don’t know, I just woke up there a while ago,” he replied in a hushed tone. “Did I wake you?”

“No. I just woke up too.” She lay back down on the bed and stretched herself fully, groaning as she did so. “I think I’m going to go for a run.”

“Will the gym be open at this time of the morning?” he asked sceptically.

“No, I’m going to go to the beach,” she replied, as she pushed herself off the bed. “We haven’t had a chance to go there yet and it’s right next to the hotel.”

“Not on your own, Jemma, not at this time,” he answered firmly. “I’m coming with you.”

“There’s no need, I can take an ICER. You go back to bed,” she replied.

“Nope.” He shook his head. “I don’t want you to have to need an ICER. It’s safer if I’m there with you. Although I’m going to take an ICER.” She was close enough to him now that he could see her roll her eyes.

“Okay, if you insist,” she sighed. She clasped his forearm as she walked past him and leaned in to kiss his cheek. “You’re very sweet,” she whispered.

He was very tempted to turn his head around and capture her lips, but he had just given himself a release from the need she awoke in him. He didn’t want to rouse it again.


	12. Theory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz accompanies Jemma to the beach for her morning run and shares with her his theory on what Storch is up to. As they come to the conclusion that they need to take action, they both realise that it will mean a bit of a sacrifice on their part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These next four or five chapters are more concerned with the story of the mission (although there are a few Fitzsimmons moments in there as well!) I'm going to try and post them in fairly quick succession, in order to move the story along. Hopefully, you won't find them boring though - it all gets pretty action-y and there's quite a big twist coming, so it should keep you entertained, even if we diverge slightly from the main arc for a little while. They're all pretty short chapters as well, and the Fitzsimmons stuff once we get past this part of the story will get really meaty (i.e. feels and smut - lots of both!) And the Storch storyline is really important later on, so this really is all necessary, I promise! (Also, any scientists reading this, please forgive the science in this chapter! I'm afraid that it is not my forte. I tried my best with it!)

Twenty minutes later Jemma and Fitz were walking down the winding steps from the hotel to the beach. Since Jemma needed the run to work off all the frustration that had built up since last night, it wasn’t exactly ideal that Fitz was insisting on coming to watch. On the other hand, she was grateful for his protectiveness. It was just a pity that they couldn’t work out their frustrations together on the sand. That thought wasn’t helpful, and she immediately dispelled it, choosing to focus instead on the scene in front of them. A faint pinky-orange glow had appeared on the horizon, spilling warmth onto the cold, grey water. The early morning air was chilly, so she wore a hoodie over the shorts and t-shirt she had put on to run. Fitz was wearing a cardigan, which he was hugging around himself. He picked a spot on the sand, and sat down cross-legged to watch the sun come up, clutching her water bottle in one hand, the other holding the tablet he’d brought to keep an eye on Storch’s movements.

Facing the sun, Jemma began her warm-up stretches. As she did a trunk rotation, she glanced over her shoulder and noticed Fitz very pointedly staring at the sand. She was caught between laughing and groaning out loud in thwarted desire. She couldn’t get last night out of her head. It had been incredible…right up to the point where they had realised that they couldn’t have sex. Fitz had been beyond her expectations, quite frankly - he way he had grabbed her, the way he kissed her so damn hard and then thrown her down on the bed was like something straight out of one of her fantasies. And the feeling of his tongue in her mouth, and his thumb on her nipple had blazed through her lower belly in a way she was finding it very hard to forget. The thought that he was trying so hard not to lust after her while she stretched in front of him was leaving her wanting all over again. In frustration, she began to jog away from him down towards the water’s edge. As the waves rushed to greet her, the sound calmed her a little, washing away her agitation. She increased her speed until she was pounding hard along the shoreline.

Running put her right back in the moment. The exhilaration of the endorphin rush combined with the waves and the sunrise and the beautiful scenery soon had her feeling like she could take on the world. As she jogged back to Fitz half an hour later, she resisted the urge to just throw herself down on top of him. He was now lying back on the sand, with his hands behind his head, in very contemplative mode.

“Some bodyguard you are, you weren’t even watching me,” she teased breathlessly, as she bent over and placed her hands on her knees.

“I was,” he replied, turning his head, “you were in my field of vision the entire time. I only lay down when I saw you turning around to come back here.” He propped himself up on one arm. “Listen, Jemma, I’ve been thinking.”

She braced herself. For what, she didn’t know, but a sudden anticipation of pain had slammed her in the gut. She stood up straight, clutching her stomach with one hand and placing the other on her chest, trying to slow her heart and diaphragm down.

“I think we fucked up last night,” he said slowly.

“Oh.” She closed her eyes as her heart took a punch as well.

“No, not that,” Fitz said quickly. “I mean, the mission. We were so caught up in…our own stuff last night that it never even occurred to us that Storch being passed out in his room would have been the perfect opportunity for us to go in and have another go at taking some readings.”

“Oh god!” Jemma opened her eyes wide and inhaled sharply. “Shit! Why didn’t we do that?!”

Fitz leaned his head to one side and gave her an incredulous look. “You know why,” he said reprovingly.

Jemma coloured and looked down at the sand.

“The point is, we need to do it now," he continued. "I know Storch could wake up at any time; he could be already awake, but we’ll be able to get something through the wall, we just won’t be able to actually pinpoint the device and look at it. But we need to get some idea of what we’re dealing with. Because we need to find out what this thing is. You see, I’ve been thinking about what it could be.”

“So have I,” she replied, as she flopped down on the sand beside him and took her water bottle off him. “I started thinking about it last night, when you went out to the balcony. I needed to think about something other than…well, you know.” She took a long drink of her water to avoid looking at Fitz’s face. “So I started thinking about your theory that the thing wipes memories,” she continued, panting. “Initially, it didn’t make sense to me, because I thought if Storch wiped all memory of what he had been working on, then why didn’t he just erase people’s memories of him as well? And then I realised, that of course, far too many people at Shield would remember him, it would take too long to use the device on them all. So that’s why he faked a kidnapping. Then I wondered how Coulson knew he’d been in possession of an 0-8-4 at all - I mean, why didn’t Storch erase that information, so nobody would come looking for it - and I realised that the record must be contained in Fury’s toolbox. As a lowly scientist, Storch wouldn’t have had access to that, in fact, he probably didn’t know it existed. And Fury was the director of a massive organisation, he wouldn’t have had the details about what each and every scientist was working on, beyond the bare information. So Fury’s toolbox probably contains the information that Storch was working on an 0-8-4, and nothing else. And that’s the only record that remains of what Storch was doing. So it actually makes sense that Storch wiped people’s memories of what the 0-8-4 was, because you’re absolutely right, it is bizarre that we’ve been sent to look for something, and nobody can tell us anything about it.”

Fitz nodded. “Not only that, Jemma, but if I’m right, then I think it’s too dangerous to wait for Storch to go to meet Quinn, and try to intercept him. Call it a hunch, but I really believe that this object Storch has can actually read minds. Then it wipes all memory of the incident so that people don’t realise that their mind has been read. That’s how Storch is getting this information. If he became even slightly suspicious of us, he could use the device on one of us to get the information that we’re Shield and we wouldn’t even remember. For all I know, he could have used it on me already yesterday.”

Jemma shook her head. “He didn’t. Trip said he was watching you the whole time, and he would have mentioned if he seen Storch do anything to you. And Storch was never close enough to the rest of us to use it.”

“Or was he?” Fitz asked.

Horror slithered down Jemma's spine as she considered the implications of what he was saying. “Oh god!” she whispered.

“You see what I mean?” Fitz said. “We need to take Storch down with an ICER, we need to get him back to the base, before he has a chance to use the device, or to tell anyone that we’re here.” He gave her a look of deep regret and sadness. “Jemma, we need to do that this morning,” he said heavily.

She stared at him, trying to process all this. “You think that Storch had the device on him then, at the pool?” she asked.

“It makes sense, doesn’t it?” Fitz replied. “We couldn’t find anything in his room, and something that valuable, I don’t think he’d leave it in his room in the first place. I think he’d keep it on his person. I have a suspicion that he’s very used to using it. Also, I don’t think he ever had any intention of selling it to Ian Quinn. For a start, what you said yesterday about Storch liking to have power over people – can you see someone like him being willing to give up a mind-reading device? And he said something else to me yesterday at the pool, he mentioned all the people who were lining up to buy his discovery. What if Storch is setting up meetings with people like Quinn, taking the money for the device and then erasing all memory of the meeting, before making off with the money and the device? Or alternatively, what if it’s not the device he’s selling? What if it’s information he’s selling? Actually, that makes more sense,” he said, as the thought occurred to him. “Because if somebody like Quinn arranged to buy the device, and Storch wiped their memory and took the money and the device – well, they’d notice the money missing, wouldn’t they? And other people would remember them entering and leaving the building. He went on about information being power and being currency – what if he’s using the device on powerful people, stealing information from them, wiping their memory of the event, and then selling the information on to other people, like Quinn? I don’t know, I don’t know how this works yet.”

“But what about the woman?” Jemma asked. “She was looking for something in Storch’s room – that means Quinn _must_ know about the device.”

“Skye said the woman said she couldn’t find ‘anything’. We don’t know if it was the device she was looking for, she may just have been looking for evidence of Storch’s source of information. Maybe Storch knows something about Quinn, and Quinn’s trying to find out how he knows this. Maybe Storch isn’t selling information, maybe he’s blackmailing people!” Fitz was getting agitated now.

“It’s all theory and conjecture at this point though, Fitz,” Jemma said slowly.

“I know, I know, but what if I’m right?" he replied, his tone plaintive. "It means that this thing Storch has is incredibly dangerous, and we need to get it off him. We also don’t know what information Storch has already, so we need to contain him. I think we need to err on the side of caution here.” He began drawing in the sand with his finger.

Jemma thought about this for a moment. What Fitz was saying was certainly logical, and if he was right, then they needed to act. A device like that was dangerous in the hands of a man like Storch, bitter in his own sense of inadequacy, craving dominance over others. But they had no actual proof of this, and grabbing Storch now was not part of the mission. Also…Fitz’s plan meant leaving Malta today. It meant she and Fitz would no longer be sharing a hotel room. Or pretending to be engaged. She played with the ring on her finger again. No more holding hands or touching or kissing. And no more opportunity to have sex.

“What difference would it make, though, if we go ahead with the mission as planned?” she asked carefully.

“Because the current plan is for Skye and Trip to follow Storch on his way to the meeting with Quinn, and to intercept once they have confirmation that’s where he’s going. But we don’t know what the device is or how it works. What if he uses it on Skye or Trip?” Fitz replied reasonably. “What if he finds out everything he needs to know about us, and escapes? Even worse, alerts Quinn to our presence?”

Jemma nodded slowly. “Okay,” she said reluctantly. “I think you’re right. But what do we do? Do we just knock on Storch’s door now and hit him with an ICER as soon as he opens it? How do we get him to the Bus then without anyone noticing us dragging a prone body through the hotel?”

“We don’t,” he replied. “We need to somehow get him to the Bus first, then knock him out.”

“How do we do that, Fitz?” she asked in exasperation.

“Well, I don’t know, I’m not in charge of logistics, am I?” he replied. “For that we need to talk to our operatives.” He stood up and held out his hand to help her up. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go try and get some readings from Storch’s room now.” She took his hand and he pulled her to her feet, both of them stepping back quickly as their faces ended up just inches from each other. Fitz turned and led the way back up the steps. Jemma took another drink of water before she followed him.

 

The thermal scanner showed Storch still passed out on his bed, so they opened their equipment cases to release the D.W.A.R.Fs. Almost as soon as they did, several of them zipped straight towards the wall, and the information started popping up on the screen of Fitz’s tablet. “Okay, there are crazy electromagnetic readings coming from that room,” Fitz said as he read the screen. “These results are reading as if he has, I don’t know, an MRI scanner in that room, only way more powerful. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like this.”

“Fitz, I’m getting some sort of biochemical reading as well,” Jemma frowned as she studied her tablet. “A very peculiar one; I’m not sure I understand it though. I’m seeing traces of infrared signatures characteristic of a number of different physiological substances, mainly pheromones and glucocorticoids?” She thought for a minute. “Pheromones are how mammals communicate emotional and physical states of being to other mammals,” she said eventually. “Although there’s some controversy as to whether they exist or not in humans, but I’m one of those who is of the opinion that they most definitely do. It makes sense that pheromones would be involved in a mind-reading device. This device must stimulate the production of certain pheromones. As for the glucocorticoids, the only thing I can think of is that high doses of them have been shown to adversely affect memory consolidation, so they might be why no-one remembers the device after it’s been used on them. Fitz, I think everything we’re seeing here supports your theory that this is a mind-reading device that wipes your memory of it being used on you.”

They stared at each other in horror. Jemma whipped out her phone and rang Skye. “Get up, we’re coming in to see you,” she said, as soon as Skye answered. “Fitz has a theory and it means we need a change of plan.”

“Um, what?” she mumbled in a sleepy and confused voice.

Jemma hung up and looked at Fitz. “We’ll maybe give them a minute to put some clothes on and pretend like they didn’t have sex with each other last night,” she said, giving him a wry smile. Fitz sighed heavily, and glanced towards the welcome basket on the table. Jemma followed his eyes in confusion. There were chocolates and nuts in it, maybe he had been planning to eat them later. She felt a little bit hurt at that. That’s what he was regretting about leaving Malta? What about what they could have done in this room later when they were alone?

“I was thinking we could have had the champagne later,” he said in a quiet voice.

Jemma started. “Oh, Fitz, what a lovely idea,” she breathed.

“I was thinking that maybe Skye and Trip would appreciate getting some time alone tonight, and that we could eat here in our room, and drink the champagne and…” His voice trailed off, and Jemma felt her heart flutter as she realised what he was suggesting.

“Oh, that would have been wonderful,” she whispered in regret. “I mean…I think Skye and Trip would have really liked that,” she added coyly. Fitz glanced at her and gave a half smile as he nodded.

“Yeah, I think they would have really liked it too.” He closed his tablet sadly. “Anyway, we’d better go and talk to them.” He walked over to the door and disappeared out into the hall. Jemma looked at the champagne longingly for a little moment, before crossing to the table and lifting it. She nipped over to her suitcase and stashed it inside, before following Fitz out the door.


	13. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma and Fitz explain their theory to Skye and Trip. They contact Coulson to settle a dispute and the team comes up with a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fairly short chapter this time, and it's all to do with the mission, so I'll be posting the next one tomorrow.

_“Say that again?”_

Trip stared at Fitz as if he’d gone insane. While Fitz patiently explained his theory again from the start, Jemma took a quick glance around the room. Skye and Trip had obviously done a frantic tidy after her phone call, but she could see an empty condom wrapper in the waste basket and Skye’s discarded underwear peeking out from under the bed. Plus, the whole room smelled of sex. She was experiencing intense jealousy. This could have been her and Fitz this morning. There was also a little residual hurt that Skye hadn’t told her about this. Did Skye think that she still liked Trip as well? And here she was worried that her attraction to Fitz was becoming more and more obvious. Clearly not.

Skye was listening to Fitz with her arms folded and a sceptical look on her face. It was amazing how much her friend had changed since the events of last year, when they had discovered Ward was Hydra. Skye had been in love with him and his betrayal had hardened her. Yes, she was stronger but she was also sadder, more serious, a little less…Skye. She was every inch the Shield agent now. There was a time when she would have been excited by Fitz’s theory that Storch had something that could read minds, but now she was listening to it with a field operative’s ear, thinking in terms of logistics and risk assessment and mission parameters. Still, it had been nice to see a little of the old Skye emerging since they’d been on this trip. It occurred to Jemma how much they all actually needed a holiday. As pleasant as it had been to lounge by the pool yesterday, and have dinner and drinks last night, none of them had been able to relax fully. They’d had to be aware of Storch and of maintaining their cover at all times. Pretending to be on holiday had only made Jemma feel like she needed a real holiday.

“Fitz, we can’t just go off book and throw out the mission plan because you have a theory,” Skye said, when he’d finished talking. “This is just a guess, you don’t have any proof. It’s too big a risk to grab Storch now and take him back to the base, before we even know if he has the 0-8-4 with him, or if he’s really meeting Quinn, or what Quinn is up to.”

Fitz stared at her. “It’s not Storch you’re after, is it?” he said suddenly. “It’s Quinn. This whole op is about keeping an eye on Quinn, not Storch.” He looked between Skye and Trip and Jemma could tell by the guilty look they exchanged that Fitz was right.

“Wait a minute, do you two have different orders than we have?” she asked, stepping forward. “I mean, like did Coulson speak to you again after our meeting?”

“You know, technically, we’re not supposed to discuss our orders with you,” Trip said slowly.

“Look, yes, okay," Skye interjected suddenly. "Coulson gave us extra instructions when you guys went to see May. Guys, Storch is just a scientist. No offence,” she quickly added as Jemma let out a little huff of indignation and Fitz’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “You guys are in the field now, Storch never was. This is not a master criminal, this is a physicist who stole a mysterious item. And the likelihood is that he's looking to sell it. Quinn is the real danger here, he’s the one we need to keep an eye on. Coulson wants us to follow Storch to the meeting and listen in on his meeting with Quinn. We need to find out what that item is and what Quinn wants with it. Then we need to stop the meeting before the exchange goes ahead, and get the device.”

“And how exactly do you plan to do that?” Fitz asked.

“Dendrotoxin grenade, baby!” Trip chimed in happily.

Jemma watched Fitz shake his head. Having worked with him so long, she knew that he relied on his instinct a lot. He had to – as an engineer, it was his job to turn ideas into reality, and it took intuition and belief to do that. It wasn’t how Jemma worked; as a biochemist, it was her job to study evidence in order to come up with ideas. Consequently, she preferred a more logical, empirical approach but she had learned to trust Fitz’s instinct over the years. And the fact that what his instinct was telling him made rational sense to Jemma only convinced her more that he was right and the mission was heading down the wrong track.

“Skye, I believe Fitz’s theory is the only logical explanation for what we know so far,” she said. “Quinn’s not the problem here. Well, he’s a problem alright, but he’s not the most urgent one at the moment. I think Fitz is right, I don’t think Quinn knows that Storch has any kind of device. I think that Storch is here to sell information to Quinn, or possibly to blackmail him. I mean, think about it. If Quinn thought that Storch had some sort of powerful device - possibly alien, or based on alien technology - that could access important information, do you really think he’d be letting him faff about a hotel for a couple of days with it? Don’t you think he would have Storch whisked away to his compound under heavy security? I think you’re underestimating the danger that Storch poses. He was gloating to Fitz about being able to access information that no-one else had access to – he’s not going to give that up, not for all the money in the world. That kind of power over other people is much more important to him. He’s here in the hotel on Quinn’s dollar, letting complete strangers like Fitz buy him drinks - he’s not throwing money around like someone who thinks he’s about to get rich, he’s taking advantage of people, like he thinks he’s powerful and they’re not.”

She looked around to see everyone’s reaction. The heady mixture of gratitude and admiration in Fitz’s eyes when he looked at her was making her a little wobbly in the legs. Skye and Trip exchanged thoughtful glances and then Skye turned back to Jemma with an impressed smirk.

“Thinking like a field agent there, Simmons,” she teased.

“I’m just taking Fitz’s theory and applying it to the evidence we’ve been presented with so far, and logically speaking, it fits,” Jemma explained simply. “But there’s more, we do have some evidence.” She nodded at Fitz and he opened his tablet and began to talk them through the readings they had taken through the wall.

“Okay, let’s just say that you’re right,” Trip said eventually, as Fitz finished talking. “You’re saying that we need to grab Storch now and get him back to base? I mean, how do we go about getting him out of the hotel?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about that too,” Fitz said. “Jemma asked the same question, if we hit Storch with an Icer, how do we get him to the Bus? And the answer is that we have to get him there first and then hit him with an ICER. So what if he thought that Quinn was going to meet him on his private plane, and sent a car to pick up Storch to take him to the airport?”

“Who’s going to give him that message? Who’s going to drive the car? He’s seen all of us.” Trip shook his head. “No, I’m sorry, Fitz, that plan is not going to work. Besides, Coulson would never allow it. Our orders are to find out what Quinn wants with Storch. So we need to let that meeting go ahead. The good news is that the fact that Storch asked for a wake-up call means that the likelihood is that the meeting is today. Probably this morning, in fact.”

“Ask Coulson then,” Fitz said suddenly. “Call him up and ask him right now. Let’s see what he thinks.”

“I can tell you now what he’s going to say, Fitz,” Trip said.

“Let’s just ask him anyway,” Fitz retorted. “If he says no, then I drop it and we continue with the mission as planned. But I have a question I need to ask him first.”

Jemma watched the colour springing up in Fitz’s face and his eyes blazing. God, he was so sexy when he got all passionate about something. Images from the night before when he had been that passionate about her instantly flooded her brain. She inhaled sharply, mentally chastising herself for the totally inappropriate thoughts. She looked away quickly, as she prayed no-one would notice that she was flushed and her breathing had quickened. Her pupils were probably dilated too, she imagined, so she pretended to study her tablet as she struggled to returned her mental processes to the task at hand.

Trip shrugged in defeat. “Alright. We’ll call Coulson and you can talk to him and see what he says.”

Fitz’s fingers flicked deftly over his tablet screen and suddenly Coulson’s face appeared in front of him.

“Guys, what’s up? Is there a problem?” Coulson asked.

“No, sir,” Trip called. “But Fitz has a theory about the 0-8-4 and he wants to discuss it with you.”

“I’m all ears,” Coulson replied.

“Sir, I think we need to change the mission plan,” Fitz began. “I don’t think Quinn is the problem here, I think we need to grab Storch now and bring him back to base.”

“Oh? And what makes you say that?” Coulson asked.

Jemma glanced at Fitz, anxiety gripping her insides. She fervently hoped that someone else apart from her would trust his instinct – for his sake, as well as for the mission. Fitz took a breath.

“Sir, I need to ask you something. You and May both, if she’s around. You said that both of you met Storch. Can I ask what you talked to him about?”

Coulson opened his mouth to speak and closed it again, frowning. “Well, I…I don’t actually remember,” he said in confusion. “I think it was just casual conversion, nothing important,” he added, shaking his head.

“Coulson, Storch never left the Sandbox. You were one of the highest ranking officers in Shield, you were basically running the Logistics Division, you were in charge of the Avengers Initiative and you were handling Romanoff and Barton, as well as May, three of Shield’s top operatives. What were you doing at the Sandbox when you spoke to him?” Fitz insisted. “Something must have been important enough to bring you there.”

Coulson’s face was a mask of utter bewilderment. “I…I don’t know,” he stuttered. “I can’t seem to remember…there must still be things I can’t recall since T.A.H.I.T.I.”

“I don’t think it’s got anything to do with T.A.H.I.T.I, sir,” Fitz said. “Where’s May? Can you get her and ask her what Storch talked about?”

Coulson disappeared from the screen and they all looked at each other as they waited for him to return. Jemma noted with some satisfaction that Skye and Trip looked a little worried after witnessing Coulson’s complete memory blank when asked about meeting Storch. After a few minutes, May appeared on the screen, Coulson just behind her. May looked equally confused.

“Fitz,” she said. “I’m trying to remember why I went to Sci-Ops to speak with Storch. And…I can’t. I have no idea. I just remember being there, and I remember chatting to Storch, but I can’t remember what we were talking about. And I remember coming back and Coulson asking me for a report, and I didn’t know what he was talking about.”

“Wait a minute,” Jemma interrupted. “You mean you didn’t actually both see him at the same time?”

“No,” they said in unison. “I came back and I didn’t know what report Coulson wanted or why exactly I’d been to the Sandbox, and so Coulson went himself, and then he came back and never said anything more about it, and…it all just went out of my head,” May added, her eyes looking down as if she was struggling to remember.

“And I don’t even remember ever sending you to the Sandbox to speak to Storch,” Coulson said in alarm.

“Director Coulson, this is why we have to take Storch in now,” Fitz said firmly. “I believe that the device he has wipes memories. Even more than that, I believe that it reads people’s minds and then wipes all memory of the event. I believe that Storch is either selling the information he receives, or he’s using it to blackmail people. I think he’s planning to do the same to Quinn.”

Before Coulson could speak, Trip stepped forward. “The only thing is, sir, that we witnessed a woman who was shadowing Storch here. She went with him to his room last night, gave him something that knocked him out and then left the room. Skye heard her calling someone and saying that she couldn’t find something. So we think that Quinn sent her here to look for the device.”

“But that doesn’t make sense,” Jemma interjected. “I’m sorry, Trip, but if Storch was planning to sell the device to Quinn, then why would Quinn send someone here to steal it? I mean, why set up a meeting to buy the device and then steal it before the meeting takes place? Isn’t it more likely that Storch has information and Quinn wants it before Storch can sell it to anyone else?”

“Listen, guys, we’re not going to know anything until we listen in on that meeting between Storch and Quinn,” Coulson said.

“Or until we grab Storch and take him in,” Fitz argued.

“I appreciate what you’re saying, Agent Fitz, but the fact of the matter is that we know absolutely nothing here. Whatever Storch has, I need to see what Quinn’s interest in the matter is,” Coulson replied. “Quinn has proven himself a dangerous enemy in the past and I’ve learned not to underestimate him.”

“But sir,” Fitz protested, “if this thing Storch has is able to wipe memories, then the longer we leave him at large with it, the more chance he can use on all of us and disappear with it.”

“I wouldn’t underestimate Storch either, sir,” Jemma added. “Both Fitz and I have spoken to him, and we’re agreed that he’s a man who never had any power until he got his hands on this 0-8-4. He is deeply unpleasant and doesn’t appear to have anything in the way of scruples. He could be very dangerous with something that can read people’s minds, and god knows what secrets he stole from your mind and May’s and sold on to the highest bidder.”

Fitz gave her an approving nod, and Coulson and May looked at each other in horror as they both realised the enormity of their brief encounters with Storch. Coulson appeared to be thinking very quickly. Jemma wondered if there was any way to accommodate both Fitz’s theory and Coulson’s desire to keep tabs on Quinn. Her eyes lit upon Trip’s jacket and trousers from the night before draped over a chair, and a sudden thought occurred to her.

“Wait a minute,” she said slowly. “What if we could do both? What if we could let the meeting go ahead as planned, and if Fitz is right and Storch is selling information and not the device, then you don’t drop the grenade but let Storch walk out of there. Sir, Storch asked for a wake-up call this morning, so Trip has reasoned that the meeting with Quinn is this morning. If he’s right, what if _we_ set up a meeting with Storch for _after_ he meets with Quinn?” Everyone looked at her as if she had lost her mind. “Trip, Skye, have either of you talked to anyone since you got to the hotel? I mean, have you used the backstory May gave you?”

They looked at each other and then both shook their head at her. Jemma turned to Fitz. “What about you, did you say anything to Storch about them?”

Fitz shook his head. “I just said they were our friends, that’s it.”

“You didn’t say anything about how you knew them?”

“No.”

“Okay,” she said, a plan beginning to consolidate in her mind. “Yesterday, you two attracted a lot of attention around the hotel, which I assume was deliberate.” They both shrugged. “You both looked very glamorous, and you were strutting around like you owned the place.”

“All part of the wealthy vacationing couple vibe,” Skye replied, a little defensively.

“Exactly,” Jemma agreed. “I figured that. So it wouldn’t be a stretch for anyone to believe that you two were ultra-wealthy. Like, ‘own your own company’ wealthy. A tech company, let’s say. The kind of people who might be very interested in what Storch has to sell…”

“Jemma, that’s brilliant!” Skye exclaimed, her eyes shining in a way that made Jemma feel very pleased with herself. Maybe Fitz was right, maybe she was better at this stuff than she had thought. “What if Fitz and Trip approach Storch at breakfast. Fitz, you could introduce Trip as the CEO of a fictional company, say that you mentioned your conversation with Storch yesterday to him, and he was very interested in finding out what you meant about accessing information and all that. Trip, you could ask him if he’s interested in meeting, but for the sake of privacy, you want to meet him on your private jet.”

“First of all,” Trip responded. “If Storch has already used the device on any of us, he’ll know that’s a ruse. Secondly, he was a S.H.I.E.L.D scientist guys, he’s going to see the big ass S.H.I.E.L.D logos on the Bus.”

“I’ve thought about that, and we’ll just have to hit him as soon as he enters the hangar,” Fitz replied. “We’ll just have to drag him onto the Bus. As for what he already knows, that’s the risk. If he does already know we’re S.H.I.E.L.D, then maybe we’ll be able to tell by his reaction.” He shrugged. “That’s the best I’ve got, I don’t know what else to do.”

“No, no, this could work,” Skye argued. “If you’re right, and Storch is dealing in the information he gets from the device, then he’s going to jump at the chance to use it on another big business billionaire type. At the very least, if he’s suspicious of Trip, he’s _definitely_ going to want to use it on him. If we send a car to take Storch to the hangar after he gets back from meeting Quinn, we can reel him right in. But if Coulson’s right, and Storch is selling the device to Quinn, then we drop the grenade as planned.”

Everyone looked back at the screen and Coulson gave an approving nod.

“Wait a minute,” Jemma said, frowning as her mind ticked over the plan. “How are you going to get inside the compound, let alone listen in on Storch’s meeting with Quinn?”

Coulson gave a little smile “That’s the beauty of it. We don’t. We already have a man on the inside.”

“Who?” Jemma and Fitz spoke at the same time.

“Well, we found out that Quinn doesn’t hire any of his security detail personally,” Coulson said. “They’re all hand-picked by his chief of security. Who just happens to be in the States at the moment, picking up new recruits. Quinn’s been tightening his security recently, that’s another reason I’m suspicious of him. So just maybe his chief of security found a perfect candidate and emailed Quinn’s private account, letting him know he was sending the guy right over to Malta. Maybe the guy arrived last night, bearing all the right documents with Cybertek’s official seal on them. And maybe he comes with the highest recommendations, being an experienced private military contractor with a background in the SAS…”

“Hunter!” Fitz and Jemma both exclaimed at the same time.

Trip laughed. “Alright! My man got to come to Malta after all! Only he’s not kicking it by the pool, he’s on duty inside Quinn’s compound. He’s going to be so pissed!”


	14. The Operation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz and Trip put their plan into motion, but there's a big surprise in store for them...

Fitz was really feeling the effects of his mostly sleepless night by the time they went down to breakfast. He wasn’t sure he was up to subterfuge this morning, but it was necessary for their plan that he sell the idea that Trip was an uber-wealthy business man who was interested in what Storch was selling. After much discussion, they had concluded that it was unlikely that Storch had already used the device on any of them. Jemma had pointed out that both May and Coulson had been alone with Storch when he had used the device on them, so it was possible that it wasn’t something he could easily use when another person was present. Skye and Trip had been together the whole time, and so had he and Jemma - apart from the times when he went to the pool bar. The first time, though, Jemma said that Storch was lying on his recliner with his eyes closed, and the second time, Trip had been keeping an eye on Fitz as he talked to Storch. And the barman had been there the whole time anyway.

So he was fairly confident that Storch had no idea that they were Shield. This was a risky move though, actually trying to organise a meeting between him and Trip, and Fitz would have been feeling more anxious about it if he wasn’t so bloody knackered. The brief but passionate make-out session with Jemma was almost worth the exhaustion, but the fact that it could have been much more was absolutely maddening. He moped over this as he watched her spreading apricot preserves on a croissant across the table from him. The morning sunlight was streaming through the restaurant window, illuminating her features in a way that was nothing short of breathtaking. She was wearing a white linen sleeveless top and her hair was tied up, with loose curls hanging down. She looked like an angel or a perhaps a Greek goddess. Rather less divine though were her nagging exhortations that he should eat something. He was kicking himself that he couldn’t avail of this rare opportunity to indulge in a proper British full breakfast, something he was surprised to see the hotel serving, until Jemma reminded him that Malta had once been part of the British Empire. But heartbreakingly, he felt much too queasy to eat fried food. Jemma was relentless however so he took a piece of toast in order to placate her.

He was nibbling at it when Storch finally entered the restaurant, dressed in a freshly pressed linen suit and a Panama hat. He was carrying his book again, and Fitz’s eyes narrowed when he saw it. Storch had never let go of that book the whole time he had been beside the pool, even when he’d gone to the bar. He’d also brought it down to dinner last night. He noted that Storch didn’t have his usual creepy smug smile this morning. Instead he wore a disgruntled scowl, which Fitz imagined had probably been his default expression before he'd stolen the 0-8-4. Clearly Storch had not been pleased to wake up with his trousers around his ankles and realise that the attractive woman he had picked up in the bar had drugged him and searched his belongings. Fitz hoped that his bad mood wouldn’t rob Storch of his ability to spot another easy mark for his swindle.

“Looks like we’re on,” Trip said quietly. “Are you ready for this?”

Fitz nodded. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” he replied. “Let’s get this over with.” Jemma reached across the table and squeezed his arm, scrunching her nose adorably at him. It briefly crossed his mind how amazing it would be to be able to just lean across and kiss her. Then it occurred to him that they were supposed to be engaged and that’s what engaged couples did…but Trip and Skye were sitting at the table with them, and Jemma wasn’t expecting it, and it would be weird. By that stage however, he realised that he had waited too long and had just spent the last few moments staring at her. Skye and Trip were looking at him in confusion and Jemma was blushing, busying herself with pickng up the crumbs on the tablecloth in order to avoid his gaze. He felt like he needed to do something so he held out his fist for her to bump it, immediately cringing as he did so. She gaped at him in surprise before awkwardly pressing her fist against his. Skye and Trip both sniggered and he felt himself grow hot. He ignored them, walking away as he focused on what he was about to say to Storch.

“Good morning, Max!” he greeted him with a big grin, as he arrived at the table.

Storch looked up from his menu and smiled wanly at him. “Leo. A good morning to you too,” he replied in a tone that suggested he wasn’t thrilled about having to speak to anyone. This did not bode well.

“Max, this is my friend, Antoine Jones. Antoine used to work with me and then he set up his own software company, Legacy Inc. You may have heard of them, they’ve been doing really well on the stock market recently.” Some swift manoeuvring on her laptop by Skye this morning had ensured that this was the case, in the event that Storch had an opportunity to google Legacy between now and the meeting. She had also created a website and an online presence that looked convincing enough for a cursory glance. Storch frowned. “No, I’m sorry, I don’t think I have.”

“Oh well, never mind,” Trip laughed in that easy way he had. “We’re still a relatively young company, we have time yet to become a household name. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Max.” Trip stuck out his hand, and Storch shook it warily, looking from one to the other as if he were wondering what this was all about. “Max,” Trip continued, “Leo here mentioned to me that he had a conversation with you by the pool yesterday, where you told him that you had a way of quickly accessing information that no-one else had. I was intrigued by what that meant, and I’d love to get a sit down with you.”

Storch’s eyes lit up and he threw his menu down.

“Now, I’ve been thrilled by Legacy’s success so far,” Trip continued, “but I don’t need to tell you, Max, that it is a cut-throat world out there and anything I can do at all to stay ahead of the game…well, there’s information I’d be willing to pay a lot of money for, and so I’d be very interested to hear what you have to say.”

Storch leaned back in his chair. As he surveyed Trip the creepy smug smile made its return, making Fitz feel even more nauseous. “Is that so? Well, in that case I’d be very happy to meet with you, Antoine, and chat with you about the service I offer.” He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table as he lowered his voice. “However, it is a confidential service, so here and now is not the best time to talk about it.”

“Oh, I agree,” Trip replied seriously. “I’ve had a little trouble with competitors messing in my business, Max, so I’m not happy to meet here in the hotel at all. But I have a business centre on my private jet which is parked at a private airport nearby. I’m going there myself this morning to get some work done – can’t even rest on vacation when you’re a CEO!” Trip chuckled. “Maybe we could talk there?”

Storch looked at his watch. “I’m afraid, Antoine, that I have another meeting this morning that I need to attend. But I’m sure we could meet afterwards, if you’re not busy. Let’s say about 12?”

“That is perfect.” Trip flashed a winning smile at him. “I’ll send a car to the hotel for you. Much obliged to you for your time.” Trip shook his hand again, and Storch returned to his menu, looking very pleased with himself now. As they exited the restaurant, Trip turned to Fitz and grinned. “Got him,” he said. “Now we know for sure that he’s meeting Quinn this morning, and we can take him straight back to base afterwards.”

“So what do we do now?” Fitz asked.

“Now, we wait,” Trip answered. “Skye and I are going to keep an eye on Storch, follow him when he leaves. You and Jemma can get packed and check out. As soon as Storch is inside Quinn’s compound and we know Hunter has eyes on him, we’ll head back and pick you two up and make our way to the Bus. In the meantime, you look like you could use some more sleep. You not get any last night?”

“No, I did not,” Fitz said through gritted teeth. “I did not get…any.”

“How come you didn’t sleep, man?” Trip asked with concern.

“It was too hot,” Fitz replied. “Just too damn hot.”

 

As it turned out, there was no time for Fitz to get any sleep. Immediately after breakfast, Storch went out to sit in the lobby. Skye went to the reception desk and asked a lot of questions about the spa, until a chauffeur came in and asked for Storch. Trip was already waiting in the hired car they’d driven from the airport the previous day, and so he and Skye followed Storch as soon as he left in the limo. Jemma and Fitz had just enough time to pack up all their equipment and take their bags as well as Skye and Trip’s back down to reception, before they arrived back. Skye and Trip had seen the limo drive in the gate of Quinn’s compound, and made contact with Coulson who let them know that Hunter was in place. What was interesting though, was the fact that they discovered that they weren’t the only ones following Storch. They had seen the woman from last night waiting in a car across the street from Quinn’s compound, so it appeared that she wasn’t working for Quinn after all. Trip reasoned that if Fitz was right, and Storch had been selling secrets, then it was possible the woman was working for another corporate party who was trying to find out how Storch got his information. The worst case scenario, however, was that the woman was Hydra, which meant that they knew about the device. Trip had asked Coulson if they should follow the woman, but Coulson decided that the priority was to get Storch and the 0-8-4 back to the Playground.

It was with heavy hearts that they all drove away from the hotel, their holiday in Malta over in just 24 hours. Fitz had no idea what would happen with him and Jemma once they got back to base. He wondered if at some stage he would look back on this mission as if it were all just a beautiful dream. As he glanced at Jemma, he noticed her playing with the engagement ring again. The mission was over but she hadn’t taken it off. She seemed to be looking at it very sadly, but he supposed that she probably just liked wearing a real diamond ring. The thought of her maybe one day wearing one that he’d bought flitted through his mind briefly again before he shook his head to rid himself of it, internally berating himself for such a foolish notion. Everything that had happened yesterday had obviously gone to his head, and his feelings for Jemma were now so confused that he was getting carried away with their fake engagement, wanting it to be real. Either that or he was deeply in love with her. And the second possibility was so deeply alarming that he didn't even want to think about it.

When they arrived at the Bus, Fitz went to lie down in his bunk until Hunter arrived with Storch. He was so tired that he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, images of sea views, dancing sunlight, honey-coloured eyes and smooth creamy flesh floating through his mind. He had no idea where he was or what time it was when Trip woke him again.

“Fitz, man, I’m sorry, it’s time. Hunter just pulled into the airport with Storch.”

Fitz came to his senses rapidly, grabbing his ICER and trying to flatten down his wiry hair as he ran to follow the rest of them out the back of the plane. He was just behind Jemma as Hunter drove into the hangar, stopping the car just beside the Bus. Hunter leapt out of the driver’s seat in his chauffeur’s uniform, opening the door for Storch. Storch meanwhile had scooted over to the other side of the car, clutching his book to his chest.

“What the hell is this, that’s a Shield plane!” they heard him yell.

Hunter pointed an ICER at him. “And we’re Shield,” Hunter replied. “I’m afraid we’re taking you in, Dr Storch.”

Storch opened the door at the other side and tried to make a run for it, but Trip was already there. He grabbed Storch from behind and pushed him face down onto the trunk of the car.

“Now, now, Max,” Trip admonished him. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be and you won’t get hurt. We just need you to come back to our base with us so we can have a little chat about that 0-8-4 you’re carrying around with you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Storch cried. “I don’t have any 0-8-4. And Shield doesn’t exist anymore.”

“Oh, Shield exists,” Trip replied. “You’re about to find out how much we exist.”

As Trip pulled Storch upright, Fitz moved forward with the intention of extracting the book from Storch’s hands. At that minute however, a car suddenly tore up to the entrance of the hangar and screeched to a halt. The woman from the hotel got out of the driver’s seat and pointed a gun at Trip. Hunter immediately spun round and aimed his gun at her, yelling at her to lower her weapon. She ignored him, but before Hunter could act, the passenger door of the car opened. Everyone froze in horror as they saw who got out.

“Hi guys. It’s been a while.” Grant Ward flashed a huge grin at them. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to need to take Dr Storch here with me.”


	15. Ambush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The arrival at the Bus from Jemma's POV. Jemma has a conversation with Skye which gives her an idea. But when Ward ambushes the team, things become very tense.

Jemma had been in state of turmoil ever since they’d left the hotel. Everything had happened so fast this morning, and now they were leaving and things were still so unresolved between her and Fitz. She had no idea what was going to happen when they got back to the base. Now they had arrived at the Bus, and Fitz had gone to sleep in his bunk before she could get a minute to talk to him. At the same time, she was exhausted herself and couldn’t help thinking how nice it would be slide in there beside him and snuggle up for a nap. However she was pretty sure that Skye and Trip might find it odd, especially now that their mission was over. She also was not entirely sure how Fitz would react. The way he had stared at her at breakfast just before he got up to go and talk to Storch had made her stomach flutter, but then he had _fist-bumped_ her of all things. He had literally never done that before. The whole thing had been weird and she didn’t know what to make of it.

Her thoughts were just a torrent of confusion. The lines in her relationship with Fitz had become so blurred since yesterday, and now she just wanted to be close to him all the time, she just wanted to kiss him and touch him. She didn’t understand it. Was it just because he was a man and she found him attractive, and she liked all the kissing and touching and she just wanted more of it? Or was it something else, something deeper? She felt too tired to sort through her feelings at the moment. She was thinking about lying down in her own bunk when she saw Skye sitting by herself in the bar area, on her laptop.

“Where’s Trip?” Jemma asked her.

“Oh, he’s gone to prep the Bus for take-off,” Skye answered. “Whatever that means.”

“Oh, okay,” Jemma replied. She hovered uncertainly for a moment, and Skye stopped typing and looked up at her.

“Is everything okay, Jemma?”

Jemma hesitated for a minute and then slid into the seat beside Skye. “It’s just…I saw you. You and Trip. Together last night. Out by the pool.”

“Oh.” Skye closed the laptop and pushed it away from her.

“I take it that’s not the first time that’s happened?”

“No. No, it’s not.” Skye shrugged and gave an apologetic smile.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Skye?” Jemma asked, not quite able to keep the hurt out of her voice. “You and Trip are together and you didn’t tell your best friend? Did you think I still liked him or something? Because I don’t, not like that, not anymore,” she said, shaking her head for emphasis.

Skye sighed. “No, I know, Jemma, I didn’t think that. I would never have slept with him if I’d thought you liked him. But the truth is that we’re not actually together. That’s why I didn’t tell you. To be honest…I didn’t think you’d approve. You see, Trip and I, we have…an arrangement.”

“An arrangement?” Jemma asked in a puzzled tone.

“Yeah,” Skye replied reluctantly. “Like a ‘friends with benefits’ kind of thing. Well, no, exactly that. Trip and I are friends with benefits.”

“I don’t…how does that work?” Jemma asked blankly.

Skye shrugged. “Well, you know what it’s like, living at the Playground. There’s not exactly a lot of dating opportunities. And you know, frustration can really build up, especially with the dangerous kind of work we do, and all the adrenalin rushing through our system all the time, and the heart pumping and the body gets...”

“I get it, I get it,” Jemma interrupted her quickly. “I’m a biochemist, Skye, I understand the process. So you’re saying that you and Trip…you _relieve_ these frustrations with each other?”

“Well, yeah,” Skye replied, a little coyly.

“And how does that affect your friendship?” Jemma asked.

“Honestly, it doesn’t,” Skye said with a grin. “Truly. That’s what makes it so great. Trip’s like my best buddy, but he’s also hot and so…we just help each other out from time to time. It’s not an emotional or romantic thing, it’s just sex. _Really_ great sex,” she grinned. “We know the rules, we know what this is, we’re still great friends the rest of the time, he still has my back in the field and I still have his. It’s basically a win-win situation.” She shrugged again.

Jemma stared at her with a huge grin on her face. “Skye, that’s brilliant!” she exclaimed.

Skye looked at her in surprise.

“No, really, it is,” Jemma continued enthusiastically. “You’re saying that you can be friends with someone and still be attracted to them and you can have sex with each other, but stay friends and nothing has to change between you?”

“Well, yeah,” Skye replied.

“Why did you think I wouldn’t approve?” Jemma asked.

“Well, because, you know…” She looked at Jemma and Jemma shook her head, not understanding. “You can be…a little uptight, Jemma. You know, you’re kind of a stickler for the rules so I didn’t think you’d approve of me and Trip going against regulations for a start, and also, I don’t know…I wasn’t sure if you’d think it was a wise idea to do that with a friendship. I mean, you and Fitz have been best friends for ten years without anything like that ever happening between you, so you obviously have a lot of boundaries in place in your relationship, you know...things you just don’t do with each other, so…I guess I thought you wouldn’t think it was a good idea, me crossing that line with Trip.”

Jemma fervently hoped that Skye wouldn’t notice the deep red colour her face had gone at the mention of her relationship with Fitz. It occurred to her that she was being extremely hypocritical. Here she was admonishing Skye for not telling her about Trip when Jemma was keeping what had transpired with Fitz last night to herself. But she felt she understood now why Skye hadn’t confided in her. She wasn’t sure why but she wasn’t ready to tell Skye what had happened with Fitz. The notion of this arrangement Skye had with Trip, however, was opening a whole new avenue to Jemma that was making her positively dizzy with excitement.

“Well, I do approve, Skye, I think it’s an absolutely brilliant idea,” she said.

Skye raised her eyebrows. “You do?”

“Yes, of course. Sex is good for you after all, especially in highly stressful situations, and I’ve been in Shield long enough to know that hardly anybody adheres to the anti-fraternisation regulations. The rule is you just don’t get caught. And you have a strong enough friendship that won’t be affected by becoming intimate with each other, and it doesn’t affect your work, and really it’s the perfect solution!” she declared excitedly. Skye gave her a bewildered look. “And I understand why you didn’t tell me, and I’m sorry to pry, it was really none of my business, I just misread the situation. But I understand it perfectly now, and it makes complete sense, and I think it’s wonderful!” She patted Skye’s knee in approval and then stood up. “So you and Trip just keep doing what you’re doing, and I’ll let you go back to your work now, because I have to go and talk to Fi…I have to see Fitz about something. Work related. It’s about science. I have to talk to Fitz about science.”

“Oooookaaaaay, weirdo,” Skye replied, giving Jemma a puzzled look as she hurried away towards Fitz’s bunk. Just before she reached it however, Trip stopped her in her tracks as he emerged from the cockpit.

“Jemma, Hunter and Storch are here. Go tell Skye, arm yourselves and head outside. I’ll get Fitz.”

“Right.” Jemma nodded and took a deep breath before she turned on her heel.

 

Jemma was frozen in shock as she stared at Ward walking towards them with his hands up. Nobody had seen or heard from him since he had escaped after John Garrett had died. In truth, none of them had ever expected to see Ward again. But here he was grinning at them as if they were all old friends.

“You must be mental, mate,” Hunter spat at him. “There are only two of you and there are five of us. How are you planning to take Storch from us?”

Ward cocked his head to one side and looked curiously at Hunter. “And who are you?” he asked.

Trip glowered at him. “Give it up, Ward,” he said in angry voice. “You’re not getting Storch but what you are going to do is you’re going to get on that Bus so we can take _you_ in as well as Storch. You and your lady friend here. Either that or I put a bullet in your head.” The woman with Ward cocked the safety on the gun she was aiming at Trip.

“Easy, Kara, easy,” Ward said coaxingly. “Trip and I are old pals, he’s just having a little fun, aren’t you, buddy?”

“Oh, I haven’t even _begun_ to have fun yet,” Trip replied in a menacing tone. Jemma felt Fitz inch closer behind her, and take hold of her waist. The warmth of his hand was like a balm to her rigid body and racing heart. He was being protective, she knew, getting ready to whisk her out of danger the minute it should erupt, and the thought made her feel weirdly safe, despite the situation.

“Skye. It’s so good to see you again,” Ward said, as his gaze lighted on her. The sincerity in his voice almost made Jemma gag. Skye didn’t respond, but a fire blazed in her eyes as she aimed her ICER at Ward’s face. Coulson had made Skye a Shield agent, May had made her a warrior, but Jemma knew that this man and what he had done to her had made her as tough as steel. In this moment, she wasn’t worried about Skye, but she wasn’t so sure Ward would get out of here alive.

“ _Don’t you dare even look at her!_ ” Trip exploded, moving forward with his ICER still pointed at Ward.

Ward raised an eyebrow. “Oh, _really?_ Wow, Trip, and here I thought it was Simmons you liked. Seems you’ve moved on.” His eyes met Jemma’s and Fitz instantly pulled her back and stepped in front of her, pointing his own ICER at Ward. Ward chuckled and pointed his finger at her and Fitz as he looked back at Trip. “It’s just as well. I guess you had too much competition there, huh, Trip?” he said with a smile. “Fitz, I didn’t even see you there, how’ve you been, man?” Ward said, as he turned back to Fitz.

He sounded almost pleasant, much to Jemma’s disgust. She grasped the back of Fitz’s t-shirt as she gripped her own gun tightly. She remembered Fitz’s reaction when they’d found out that Ward was Hydra and how long it took him to accept that the man he’d thought was his friend was actually a murderer and a traitor. She could feel him trembling and she splayed her hand across the small of his back, hoping he’d get the same comfort from her hand as she’d gotten from his. Fitz glared back at Ward without responding so Jemma decided it was working.

Ward’s smile faltered as Fitz's steel-blue eyes bored into him. He actually seemed to be unnerved by Fitz's silence, Jemma noted. He turned back to Trip - she guessed because Trip was the only one from whom he was getting the reaction he wanted. It seemed to be amusing to Ward how much he was rattling the usually unflappable specialist.

“I gotta tell ya, though, buddy, I don’t see you and Skye working out either,” Ward said in a sympathetic tone. “I just don’t think you’re her type. Skye’s more into the bad boy kind, aren’t you, Skye?” He winked at her.

“What can I say, Ward?” Skye shot back. “I changed my type.”

“Oh for god’s sake, somebody just shoot this wanker already!” Hunter called out in an exasperated tone. “He’s doing my fucking head in!”

“My god, everybody’s so _edgy_!” Ward exclaimed. “And here I thought people were supposed to relax on vacation. Maybe you guys should head back to the hotel, take a couple more days. You all seem very stressed. I’ll be very happy to take Storch here out of your hands, I’ve been dying to have a little chat with him.”

“At the risk of repeating myself,” Hunter said through gritted teeth. “How exactly are you planning to do that?”

“At the risk of repeating _myself_ ,” Ward responded, swinging around to face him. “Who the hell _are_ you?”

“Lance Hunter, very pleased to meet you,” Hunter responded. “Now that we’ve dispensed with the formalities, do you think we can discuss your plans for ambushing five armed people and kidnapping their prisoner when there are only two of you? Because I’d be very interested to hear that.”

“Well, Lance…can I call you Lance?” Ward said. Hunter shrugged, flashing Ward a sardonic smile. “My plan is very simple, Lance. You see, the five of you are armed with ICERS. Whereas Kara and I, we have real guns. So you can shoot your ICER at me, but in the meantime, Kara can put a real bullet in the back of your head. Do you really want to die over this?”

Before Hunter had a chance to respond, Skye fired her ICER at Ward. Kara screamed “GRANT!” and Ward ducked out of the way, dodging Skye’s bullet by mere inches. Kara immediately began firing, and Fitz turned and pushed Jemma down to the ground, lying his body on top of hers.

“Under the Bus,” Fitz hissed in her ear, as he rolled off her and the two of them crawled on their elbows underneath the plane, manoeuvring around so that they could see what was happening from where they lay. Bullets were flying everywhere, both real and dendrotoxin, and Jemma jumped every time one of them hit the side of the Bus. She could see Trip crouched down behind the car with Storch, popping up every now and then to fire at Ward. There was a gun peering over the side of a baggage cart that she assumed was Skye’s, given her position when the shooting had started. But Hunter had been standing between Ward and Kara, and Jemma couldn’t see him from where she lay. If he hadn’t already been hit when Kara had opened fire, then his only option would have been to dive inside the car, where he would have been a sitting duck. Jemma’s heart thudded in her chest, her entire body turning cold as the only outcome she could envisage was that Hunter was dead.

Fitz was moving forward on his elbows, his ICER in his hand, and Jemma started to follow him. As she moved, she saw Storch suddenly leap up and make a run for the door at the back of the hangar. Fitz fired his ICER but missed, so Jemma fired hers in panic…and hit Storch on the leg. Storch went down, and Fitz immediately leapt up and sprang towards him. Jemma screamed his name in terror, everything around her disappearing and time slowing to a halt as the only two things that existed in the universe were the sight of Fitz dodging bullets and her own desperate need to keep him alive. She scrabbled wildly at the ground to try and get up to follow him, and watched in horror as she saw Ward diving towards Storch as well. Fitz grabbed the book from Storch’s hand at the same time as Ward reached for it. Fitz pointed his ICER at Ward, but Ward knocked it out of his hand and pointed his gun directly at Fitz’s head. Jemma screamed again and got to her feet, shooting her ICER at Ward. Her hand was shaking so badly however that she missed wildly, and the bullet ricocheted off the wall.

“Put the gun down, Simmons, or I _will_ shoot him,” Ward said coldly, without looking at her. “All of you, put your guns down or Fitz is dead.”


	16. The Exchange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I can't really summarise this chapter without spoiling it but it's just Ward being a scumbag really.

_“Leave him alone, you bastard!”_ Jemma sobbed. Her whole body was trembling so badly that the ICER she had trained on him shook wildly in her hand, rendering it entirely useless as any kind of threat to Ward.

“I will, if you put your gun down,” Ward replied evenly. “You fire at me again, Simmons and I _will_ fire at him. My bullet is real and it can reach his head a lot quicker than yours can reach me.”

“Fire at him, Jemma!” Fitz said fiercely.

“NO!” Jemma sobbed again, throwing her ICER to the ground with a clatter. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Skye stand up slowly from behind the baggage cart, and put her hands in the air. Trip was already standing beside the car with his in the air. Kara walked over and pointed her gun under the front of the Bus. The next thing an ICER skidded out from under it – evidently Hunter had been hiding under there, and he was still alive. Jemma would have been relieved if she wasn’t currently experiencing the worst moment of her life so far.

“I’m not going to give you this book, Ward,” Fitz said, shaking his head stubbornly. “If Storch was dangerous with this thing, I don’t even want to think about what Hydra will do with it.”

“Fitz, please, just give it to him,” Jemma cried desperately.

“I’m not Hydra anymore,” Ward replied. “Not since Garrett died. I’ve branched out on my own now. I promise, I’m not going to use the device for anything other than my own personal business that I need to take care of. Family business. But I really do need it, Fitz, and trust me when I say I _will_ do anything to get it. So if you don’t hand it over, I’m going to have to take drastic measures.” He shrugged as if Fitz was giving him no choice.

“Just give it to him, man,” Trip called. “It’s not worth your life.”

“If this is what I think it is, then there’s no way I’m giving _him_ this kind of power,” Fitz replied firmly.

“Don’t be stupid, Fitz.” Hunter had crawled out from under the Bus, and was now standing with his hands on his head while Kara pointed a gun at him. “Trip’s right, you’re more important than whatever that is. I think Storch used it on Quinn, he was dazed and confused after Storch left the compound, but he wasn’t dead, Fitz. It doesn’t kill anyone.”

“No, it just violates them, rapes their minds and gives arseholes like him information he shouldn’t have. It gives him power over people,” Fitz returned angrily.

“But at least it doesn’t kill them, Fitz! _Just give him the fucking thing!_ ” Jemma cried.

Fitz looked at her in anguish for a moment, before he turned his eyes back to Ward. “I can’t, Jemma,” he said sadly. “I can’t be responsible for whatever damage he’s going to do with this.”

“I didn’t want to do this,” Ward said, cocking the safety on his gun. Jemma felt like her body was going to give way under her.

“ _No, no, no, no, please, no!_ ” she screamed.

“Don’t worry, Simmons, I’m not going to shoot _him_ ,” Ward said calmly. “Not unless I absolutely have to. Fitz and I are friends, aren’t we buddy?” Fitz stared back at him. “Besides, I know Fitz,” Ward continued. “Threatening _his_ life isn’t going to get him to do anything. He’s too noble for that. No, that was just to get all of _you_ to put your guns down.” He smiled at Fitz as he spoke again. “Simmons, come here,” he said pleasantly.

“Don’t, Jemma,” Fitz warned.

“Simmons, if you don’t want me to shoot him, then you need to come here now,” Ward commanded.

“Jemma, don’t move,” Skye cried.

She heard her friend’s warning but the gun pointed at Fitz’s head was the only thing that existed to Jemma. She needed to stop it, she needed to make sure he was safe. There was no strength left in her legs but she somehow forced them forward, putting every ounce of energy she had into making her body move towards where Ward was standing.

“Jemma, no!” Fitz cried as he saw her coming towards them. He looked back at Ward. “No, no, don’t do this,” he pleaded. The look of steely determination with which he’d faced Ward down had vanished, unadulterated terror taking its place in his eyes.

As Jemma approached, Ward reached out and grabbed her, hooking one arm around the top of her chest and placing the gun he held in his other hand against her temple. In the moment she was strangely calm, the look of panic in Fitz’s eyes being the only thing that really concerned her. He suddenly looked like a frightened little boy. She tried to reach her hand out to comfort him, but Ward’s grip around her shoulders had pinned her arms to her side.

“Give me the book, Fitz,” Ward said almost gently. “Or I _will_ shoot her. I’m not bluffing this time.”

Instantly defeated, Fitz dully held out the book to Ward. Ward released Jemma, who all but fell into Fitz’s arms, feeling her legs buckle as his warmth wrapped around her.

“If you two are going to survive as field agents,” Ward said softly so that only they could hear, “you really need to learn to hide your weakness from others. And by weakness, I mean each other. You two are _so_ easy.”

Jemma’s face was buried in Fitz’s shoulder, but she could feel the anger radiating off him as he clutched her tight to him, one hand cradling the back of her head. She sensed Ward walking away, and then heard the sound of a car door slamming shut twice. The car revved and sped away and she finally looked up at Fitz’s face. His eyes were blazing, a multi-hued combustion of anger, fear and relief, as he grasped her face almost roughly with both hands. “Are you alright?” he asked in a panic.

She nodded, unable to speak as relief flooded her body. She wasn’t sure if it was for herself or for him. Trip and Skye reached them. “Are you guys okay?” Trip asked, placing a hand on Fitz’s shoulder as he studied their faces, one after the other. Skye wrapped her arm around Jemma, her eyes hard and black.

“It’s okay, Jemma, he’s gone now. He can’t hurt either of you. And he’ll never get a chance to again,” she said in a determined voice. “The next time I see that bastard, I’m going to kill him.”

Jemma looked at her friend’s face and knew that she meant it. She was about to respond when she saw Hunter approaching them. Her training and sense of duty kicked in and she broke away from Sky.

“Hunter, are you alright?” she asked in concern, as she moved towards him.

He looked at her in surprise. “Me?” he answered. “I’m fine. You were the one had a gun to your head just now. When you weren’t watching Fitz with a gun to his, that is.”

“You’re not hit? I thought for sure you’d got caught in the cross-fire there,” she replied, placing her hand on his arm as she studied him.

“No, I dived under the Bus, I’m fine, Jemma,” he reassured her, giving her arm a little squeeze.

“I’m sorry, everyone. I gave him the device,” Fitz said quietly.

“Hey, not your fault, mate,” Hunter said, clapping him on the shoulder. “You had no choice.”

“No, Fitz, Ward ambushed us, threatened Jemma’s life and took the 0-8-4,” Trip said angrily. “You tried to hold onto the device with your life, you are definitely not at fault here. Hunter, did you see this thing work, do you know what it is?”

“No, I didn’t actually have eyes on the meeting myself, but I managed to get a holographic recording device into the room before the meeting,” Hunter replied as they walked up the ramp. “I’ll show you all the recording once we get airborne.”

“Okay, guys, what are we going to do about him?” Skye asked, pointing at where Storch was lying unconscious on the ground. Trip looked around wildly before his eyes lighted on the baggage truck.

“Get him up on that,” he ordered, pointing to the cart behind it, “and somebody drive him onto the Bus. We’ll just have to leave him down in the garage until he wakes up. We’ll strap him down for take-off.”

Trip, Hunter, Skye and Fitz all took a limb each and heaved Storch onto the back of the baggage cart. Hunter drove it up the ramp onto the Bus. “Alright,” Trip said, as they strapped the cart to the wall of the plane, “we gotta get out of here. We need to get back home to tell Coulson we lost the 0-8-4 and figure out what we’re going to do next.”

As she stood there in the garage, Jemma was feeling a new sense of safety. This used to be their lab, hers and Fitz’s, their first lab of their own. It had been so uniquely theirs that she wanted to stop and just be there for a moment, basking in the security of a familiar place - even if all their tables and equipment had been taken out of it. Trip, Skye and Hunter all climbed the stairs, but Fitz stopped at the bottom when he noticed Jemma wasn’t following.

“Jemma,” he said as he walked towards her, his face full of concern, “are you okay?”

She was still shaking and her heart felt like it would never slow down, so the honest answer to that was no. She realised that she was unable to speak however, for fear that she would start crying, and so she merely shook her head. He wrapped his arms around her again, the warmth of his body instantly soothing her. She wasn’t relaxed exactly, but instead the fear that had been coursing through her system like a poison was transmuted into something else – something intoxicating. Her heart pounded against his, her blood suddenly warm against her skin. She lifted her head to look at him, and as he gazed back at her, he licked his lips, his eyes growing dark and his breath quickening. She bit her lip, trying to tamp down the frantic heat that was building inside of her. She needed him so badly she could hardly bear it. Suddenly it was all too much for her, and without thinking, she grabbed the sides of his neck and pulled his mouth towards hers, kissing him like she was dying of thirst and he was fresh, cold water. He moaned into her mouth and his hands moved down her back to her bum, gripping it so firmly it pulled her vagina taut, making her throb with want. She gasped loudly, her lust so intense it was agonising. She couldn’t get close enough to him, she pushed herself against him as hard as she could, one hand dipping down the back of his t-shirt and the other grabbing his arse, as they pillaged each other’s mouths. Fitz’s hands moved frantically up and down her body as if he wanted to touch all of her at once. She gasped as he pushed her up against the wall of the plane, his hardness pressing right up against her swollen clit through their thin shorts. Pleasure irradiated her body, frying everything until she was just a quivering mass of nerve endings. She was on the verge of telling him to just take her right there in the garage, condom or no condom, Storch unconscious beside them, when they heard a cough from up above them.

The two of them froze, staring at each other like rabbits caught in the headlights. Slowly they dropped their hands from where they had been about to tear at each other’s clothes and turned around. Hunter was standing at the top of the stairs, leaning on the railing as he looked down at them with a hint of a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

“Far be it from me to interrupt what looks as if it’s about to be a _cracking_ bout of post-danger, adrenalin-fuelled coitus, guys,” he said, grinning, “but we need to strap in for take-off. Nothing puts a damper on sex like being tossed about in the hold of a plane. More likely to end up with broken bones and head injuries than love bites and scratches. Also, not for nothing,” he added, gesturing between them as if to indicate what they’d just been doing, “but that way unplanned pregnancies lie. But being scientific geniuses, you knew that already, right?” He winked at them.

“Hunter…,” Fitz began, his eyes full of panic.

Hunter lifted his hands in a gesture of peace. “Not a word, mate,” he affirmed. “You don’t have to worry, I’ll keep schtum. No-one understands more than me the need for discretion in these types of situations – something you two should remember from now on,” he gently admonished them.  He pointed behind him with his thumb. "Now, come on, get strapped in so we can get airborne and you two can get a look at this recording.”

He turned around and left and Jemma met Fitz’s eyes. Judging by how red his face looked and how hot hers felt, it appeared they both were glowing a matching shade of shame as they contritely climbed the stairs.


	17. The Arrangement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team watches Hunter's holographic recording to find out what happened in the meeting between Storch and Quinn. Jemma and Fitz have a conversation and Jemma proposes a solution to their current predicament.

“So what the hell does this book do anyway?” Trip asked as Fitz and Jemma set up the projector for the holographic recording Hunter had taken.

“I’m guessing nothing,” Fitz answered. “I think it’s what’s hidden inside the book that’s important.”

“I couldn’t get audio, guys,” Hunter chipped in. “Coulson’s not going to be happy about that, but nothing I could do. Quinn’s paranoid about security, he has detectors everywhere. Luckily, he doesn’t have any for holographic recording devices.”

“Well, that’s because they don’t exist yet,” Fitz said. “Anyway, it’s ready, here we go.”

The holographic image of Quinn’s private office flickered to life in front of their eyes. Quinn and Storch were entering the room. Quinn gestured to a sofa and Storch sat down, clutching the book to his chest. Quinn poured them both a drink and sat down on the sofa, sipping his as he sat back, relaxed. There was a few minutes of what looked like genial conversation. The team watched in silence until Skye muttered, "We shoulda got popcorn.' Jemma swatted her arm with the back of her hand as Storch suddenly held up his book, before putting it down on the coffee table in front of them. Quinn sat forward and placed his glass on the table. He seemed interested, but the expression on his face indicated that he wasn’t sure what was happening. As he looked at the book, Storch took out a handkerchief and covering his hand with it, appeared to push Quinn’s glass out of the way. With his other hand he slid the book across to Quinn at the same time. Storch opened the book to the middle. Simultaneously, everyone leaned forward to watch the recording more intently. It appeared that the pages had been hollowed out on each side, and something placed inside them. Using the hand that was covered by the handkerchief, Storch lifted what looked like a gold circlet out of one side of the book. Quinn was staring at it. As Storch held it up, Quinn’s eyes followed it. It was hard to tell from the hologram but they seemed to take on an almost glassy quality. Storch brought the circlet over and placed it on Quinn’s head. Quinn was now staring into space. Then Storch went back to his sofa, threw the handkerchief down and lifted another circlet out of the other side of the book, placing it on his own head.

The team watched with bated breath as the two of them sat like that for a few moments. Then Storch took his circlet off with a smile. He crossed the room to remove Quinn’s circlet as well. He took a little plastic bag out of his inside pocket, and opened it to take out a cloth, which he then used to wipe the circlet. Like Hunter had said, Quinn appeared to be disorientated. Storch put the two circlets back inside the book and closed it again. He said something to Quinn, who looked at him as if he wasn’t sure what was going on. Eventually Quinn shook himself. It looked like he was apologising to Storch. He went to a laptop sitting on his desk and tapped keys for a few moments. Storch took a smartphone out from his inside pocket, glanced at it and then looking satisfied about something he put it away and shook Quinn’s hand, before leaving the office. After he left, Quinn poured himself a glass of water and sat back down on his couch looking worn out and confused. The hologram flickered off again, and everyone looked at each other in stunned silence.

“I knew it,” Fitz whispered. “Quinn looked as if he had no idea what had just happened after Storch took the device off his head. That thing wiped his memory. And judging by the smile on Storch’s face when he took his own off his head, I’m pretty sure it read his mind as well, or at least extracted certain information that Storch wanted from his mind.”

Jemma sat forward thoughtfully before getting up and walking over to the projector. Everyone watched her curiously as she switched it back on and fast forwarded through the recording to the point where Storch took the first circlet out of the book. She paused it and taking the holographic circlet between her fingers, she lifted it from Storch’s hand, enlarging it with a flick of her hands. There were symbols carved into the circlet. She zoomed in on these, and turned to everyone else. “Does anyone recognise these?”

They all shook their heads.

“Doesn’t look Asgardian,” Fitz said.

“But they definitely look alien,” Skye said.

Jemma nodded. “I’ve certainly never seen anything like them before,” she agreed. She continued the recording and paused it again when Storch took out the circlet that went on his own head. She zoomed in on this too, revealing more symbols.

“Those look different than the first one,” Fitz pointed out.

“Which is probably how Storch can tell the difference between them,” Jemma replied. “I wonder if the symbols just describe what they are though, or if they have anything to do with how they actually work? Because obviously the two circlets work very differently, and I’m wondering how.”

“What I don’t get is why did Quinn just let him put that thing on him in the first place?” Skye asked.

“Quinn looked like he was in a trance or something from the minute Storch took the circlets out of the book,” Jemma said thoughtfully. “My guess is that the device emits something that puts the victim into some kind of hypnotic state.”

“So why didn’t it affect Storch?” Hunter asked.

“That’s a good question,” Jemma replied. Hunter looked pleased with himself.

Jemma rewound the recording back to the point where Storch first held up the book and played it again. As Storch slid the book across the table to Quinn, Jemma paused the recording again. She zoomed in on Storch’s other hand that was covered in the handkerchief and pushing Quinn’s glass out of the way. Jemma rewound it once more, and played it in extreme close up, pointing to Storch’s hand as she did. “Look what he does with the handkerchief,” she gasped.

Fitz sat forward suddenly and stared at Storch’s hand. “He wipes the lip of the glass with the handkerchief, as he pushes it,” he declared. He looked at Jemma. “What do you think, he’s collecting DNA?”

Jemma played the recording again, zooming in as Storch lifted the first circlet out of the book. “He’s lifting it out with the handkerchief that has Quinn’s DNA on it,” she said. “It looks like he’s transferring the DNA to the circlet. Perhaps Quinn’s DNA activates the circlet. Perhaps that’s why Storch doesn’t seem to be affected by its hypnotic power – it only works on the person whose DNA it has received. Maybe that’s why Storch wiped the circlet with that cloth after he took it off Quinn – to remove his DNA. As I said, the two circlets obviously work differently. The one that was used on Quinn seemed to hypnotise him. Then we’re hypothesising that it extracted information from Quinn’s mind and transmitted it to Storch’s mind. But given Quinn’s disoriented state afterwards, it appears that it wiped his memory as well. He didn’t seem to have any idea that Storch had done anything to him. At one stage, it looked like he was apologising, like he was saying he wasn’t feeling well or something. Storch’s circlet, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to produce any ill effects on the wearer, it merely seems to act like a receiver.”

“Great, and I just handed that thing to Ward,” Fitz groaned, putting his hands in his head.

Jemma placed her hand on his shoulder. “And I’m very grateful that you did,” she said softly.

Fitz glanced at her and gave a rueful smile. “There was no other option,” he said simply. Jemma blushed and removed her hand awkwardly, tucking her hair behind her ear as she ducked her head.

“Quinn went and did something on his laptop afterward,” Skye said. “I’m guessing he was paying Storch, putting money into his bank account. Was he under some sort of mind control when he did that or what was he paying him for?”

“My theory is that the conversation they had before Storch took out the device was Storch giving some information to Quinn that he wanted, something he took from somebody else’s mind,” Fitz replied.

“We’ll get more information from Storch when he wakes up,” Trip said. “We need to get him to tell us exactly what that thing did to Quinn, and how it works. And when we get back to the base, we need to find out what the hell Ward is planning to do with it.”

“How did he know about it in the first place?” Skye said suddenly. “If Storch wiped all memory of the device from everyone who knew about it, how did Ward know that it existed? How did he know Storch had it?”

“Another good question,” Fitz replied. “One possible explanation is that Ward was following _us_ , that he only knew _we_ were after it.”

“But we can rule that one out,” Trip countered. “Since Ward’s girlfriend was already at the hotel shadowing Storch when we arrived.”

“Also,” Jemma added, “Ward said that he needed the device for a private matter.”

“Yeah, a family matter,” Skye said in confusion. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Which means Ward already knew what the device was and what it did if he has a specific purpose in mind for it,” Jemma continued.

“Which leaves only one possible option,” Hunter spoke up. Everyone looked at him. “Someone other than Storch knew about the device,” he said, shrugging as if it was obvious. “It looks like Storch didn’t manage to wipe the memories of _everyone_ who knew about it. Either Ward already knew about it, from when he was undercover at Shield…”

“Or someone else told him about it,” Trip finished.

“Exactly,” Hunter nodded.

“So we need to find out from Storch if Ward knew about the device,” Trip said. “And if not, who did? Okay, Hunter, Skye, head down and keep an eye on Storch. I want you two to be there when he wakes up, and escort him up to the interrogation room.” Hunter and Skye got up and went down the stairs to the garage. Trip turned to Fitz and Jemma. “Outstanding work on this mission, guys.”

“It was Fitz,” Jemma said quickly. “It was all Fitz’s work.”

“No, it wasn’t, Jemma,” Fitz objected. “We figured this out together.”

“No,” Jemma shook her head emphatically. “You figured it out. I was just a sounding board on this one.”

“Well, whatever happened, because of you guys we’ve got Storch and we’ve got a good idea of what the device does,” Trip replied. “You were right, this mission was originally focused on Quinn and what he was up to, and we were barking up the wrong tree. So great job.” He turned and walked back towards the cockpit.

Fitz turned to Jemma. “So what was all that about?”

She gave a little start and swallowed nervously. “You mean downstairs?” she began slowly.

“No…not that.” Fitz blushed and cleared his throat, taking a second to recompose himself. “I meant all that about you being a sounding board, and this all being my work?”

“Well, it’s true,” she argued. “This was all you, I was really just there for you to bounce ideas off. Which is fine,” she added quickly, “I’m happy to have helped in any way, I just think the credit should go to you. You solved this because you think outside the box, Fitz. I’m afraid my mind is too much inside the box for this kind of thing.”

“That’s not true,” he protested indignantly. “Jemma, you were the one who came up with the idea that this thing wipes memories.”

“I was just stabbing in the dark,” she replied. “I just suggested it, you were the one who ran with it and came up the conclusion that it was a mind-reading device. Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about something…”

“But you identified the biochemical signature of the circlets,” Fitz went on. “You were the one who noticed the symbols on them just now. You also figured out that the circlet is activated by DNA. And your…um… _quick thinking_ got us out of a few close calls with Storch,” he said, blushing again. “And I only came up with the theory because I was the one who spoke to Storch. You would have too, if….”

“Look, Fitz, it’s okay, never mind about that now,” she interjected. “I wanted to talk to you about something else. About what happened downstairs.”

“Oh.” He suddenly looked nervous and shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

“I spoke to Skye…” she began and Fitz’s jaw dropped.

“ _You told her?!_ About what happened between us? Jemma, we haven’t even talked about it ourselves yet!”

“No, I didn’t tell her,” Jemma replied crossly. “And we are talking about it now. If you’d let me finish, then you’d understand.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” he replied, holding up his hands. “What did you speak to her about then?”

“I asked her about her and Trip.”

Fitz’s eyes widened. “ _Oh my god, you did?_ What did she say?!”

“Fitz, they’re not together!” Jemma said excitedly.

Fitz frowned at her in confusion. “But we saw them! Are you saying…do you mean it was a one-night stand?”

“No, it wasn’t a one-night stand, it’s a regular thing, but they’re not a couple. They’re friends with benefits!” She said the last part with a spread of her hands as if she had just presented him with the solution to a particularly vexing problem.

“Friends with benefits?” he said incredulously. “Does that…isn’t that a bad idea?”

“Why would it be a bad idea?” she asked with a frown.

“Because friendship and sex are risky things to mix?” he replied uncertainly. “Especially if you work together? And even more especially if you work in jobs like ours where your lives depend on each other in the field?”

“No, but think about it, Fitz,” Jemma insisted. “It actually makes perfect sense. When you live like we do, all cooped up together on that base, not really having social lives, it’s a recipe for a lot of sexual frustration. And in that kind of atmosphere, it would be very easy to get involved with the wrong person and have it all end in tears. Look at May and Ward for example. Or Skye and Ward for that matter.”

“Yes, both of which are great arguments _against_ what you’re talking about,” Fitz replied.

“No, they're not,” Jemma retorted. “Because instead of a short-term fling with somebody you have no future with, instead you can have regular sex with someone you trust and are comfortable with, and nothing has to change between you, you just carry on being friends as normal, and having each other’s back in the field as normal, except you have sex as well!” She sat back with a satisfied look as if she had just proved her point.

Fitz shook his head. “I don’t think it’s that simple, Jemma. I mean, what if feelings get involved and somebody gets hurt?”

“Well, that’s why you need a really strong friendship to begin with. So that you both know where you stand and feelings don’t get involved.”

“But sex changes things,” Fitz argued.

“Does it?” Jemma countered. “We almost had sex last night, we almost had sex just now and it didn’t change anything!”

“Because there hasn’t been _time_ for anything to change yet!” Fitz exclaimed exasperatedly. “And, to be honest…I think it has changed things a little bit.”

“How so?” Jemma asked.

“Um…because for a start we’re about to have a conversation about what we’re going to do about the fact that we almost had sex?! We’ve never done that before! Wait a minute,” he said suddenly, as realisation hit him. “Are you suggesting…”

“…that we should do what Skye and Trip are doing? Yes!” she cried excitedly. “We should be friends with benefits as well!”

Fitz ran his hands over his face. “Jemma, that’s crazy,” he said.

“Is it so crazy?” she asked quietly. “I mean, we want to have sex…don’t we? With each other?” She sounded strangely vulnerable.

Fitz gazed at her for a moment, his mind obviously whirring while his chest heaved with some unexpressed emotion. “Yes,” he whispered eventually.

“Then this is the perfect solution!” Jemma said, grabbing his knee excitedly. “Fitz, this way we can have sex, we can satisfy each other’s needs, relieve our frustrations, and nothing has to change between us, we can stay friends the way we’ve always been.”

“Well, no, not the way we’ve always been,” Fitz muttered. He looked at Jemma with an odd expression. “So you think that’s what happened last night and today? That we were just…trying to ‘relieve our frustrations’?

She couldn’t quite meet his eyes. She shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said. “I mean, yes, that’s probably what it is.” She picked at a bit of loose thread on her linen shorts and shrugged again. “Otherwise, why are we feeling like this now? After all these years?”

Fitz said nothing. He stared at the floor. Jemma watched his face nervously, pulling her hand away from his knee. Fitz glanced up at her hand as it retreated and then at her face. “You really think that this could work?” he asked her softly.

Jemma attempted a bright smile. “It works for Skye and Trip,” she replied. “And you and I have been friends a lot longer than the two of them.”

Fitz thought about it for another moment. “How do they get around the rules?” he asked eventually. “I mean, technically it’s against protocol.”

Jemma shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said. “I didn’t ask that. Skye seemed to be a bit awkward talking about it. Apparently she had thought I wouldn’t approve.” She gave a little laugh at that.

Fitz raised his eyebrows. “There was a time you wouldn’t have,” he replied. “I actually kind of can’t believe that you’re suggesting this now, to be honest.”

Jemma swallowed. “Well, what do you want to do then?” she asked defensively. “About…whatever it is that’s happening between us?"

Fitz sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know,” he replied. “Maybe you’re right, maybe this is the best way to deal with it. I mean, we work for an illegal spy agency, we live on an underground base, fraternisation is against regulations, so it’s not as if…”

Jemma tilted her head questioningly. “Not as if what?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly. “It doesn’t matter.”

Jemma sat back and folded her arms as she regarded him. “You can just say no, you know,” she said quietly, as she lowered her head. “You’re obviously not happy about this idea, so just tell me if you don’t want to do it. I can take it.”

Fitz gave a wry laugh. “I didn’t say I didn’t want to. Wanting to do something and thinking it’s a good idea are two different things.”

“Well, okay, if you don’t think it’s a good idea, then I understand and well, you’re probably right,” Jemma said quickly as she stood up. “I think I’m going to go and lie down in my bunk for a little while. So…um…good day to you.” Her voice wavered a little at the end of the sentence and she turned around and promptly walked away.

“No, Jemma, I didn’t mean…” Fitz called after her. “Jemma, come on, I just need to talk about this,” he pleaded. She disappeared into her bunk, closing the door behind her.

 

Lying on her bunk, Jemma desperately willed away the tears that were threatening. _What was she thinking?!_ She had just propositioned her best friend with an arrangement to have sex! God, she might as well have produced a bloody contract for him to sign! And what was even more humiliating was the fact that he had all but turned her down, only he was too nice to say so. She’d gone on and on about how their friendship wouldn’t change if they had sex, and now she’d never be able to look him in the face again after merely talking about it. He had given up the 0-8-4 they’d come all the way here to find, just to save her life, and she had repaid him with a request that he _regularly service her?_ _Jesus Christ!_ What kind of friend was she?! She thought about what he’d said last night about how she’d been flirting with him and touching him and throwing herself at him all day yesterday, and she realised in mortification that she had created this whole situation herself. She rolled over and groaned into her pillow. He was a man, he had a penis, he was probably sexually frustrated like herself, of course he was going to get turned on by her doing all that, of course he was going to want to have sex when she jumped him like she had last night, or down in the garage earlier. But that didn’t mean he wanted anything more. He had probably been horrified at her suggestion that they start having regular sex, he was probably going to be so awkward around her now. Maybe Skye and Trip had a stronger friendship than them after all – she had just managed to destroy a decade of friendship with one conversation.

The door to her bunk opened suddenly and Jemma lifted her face off her pillow in surprise. Fitz was standing in the doorway. She quickly pushed herself up and rolled onto her side, ready to start apologising and explaining herself. Before she could speak, Fitz came over and lay down on the bed next to her, facing her. She stared at him, half hoping, half terrified of what he might say. He said nothing, simply cradled her jaw with one hand, and leant towards her, placing his mouth over hers. She had a bit of delayed reaction due to the sheer unexpectedness of the action, but as he kissed her so deeply that it sucked the breath right out of her chest, she quickly caught up. Their lips moved together like magnets unable to separate. Their tongues slid languidly over each other, too slowly to create any friction and yet somehow producing sparks that were igniting her bloodstream. Her legs turned to jelly, her belly to heat, and every nerve in her body thrummed with a kind of gentle voltage that made her almost dizzy. The peculiar thought crossed her mind that this was the most romantic moment she’d ever experienced, but she dismissed the idea as foolishness brought on by the intensity of this incredible kiss. It couldn’t be romantic if they were friends with benefits, she mustn’t start confusing lust with any other kind of feeling.

Eventually Fitz broke off the kiss. Jemma hesitated, confused as to what to do next. She had no idea what the kiss meant or what the hell it was she was feeling so she waited to see what he would do. “Okay,” he murmured softly as he rested his forehead against hers, “I’m in. Whatever way you want me, I’m happy to oblige. If you want to be friends with benefits, then that’s what we’ll be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm away most of next week, so unfortunately I probably won't be able to post the next chapter until a week from now. I apologise for the delay but I'll give you a few spoilers now though - the team interrogates Storch and are shocked when they discover what Ward is up to. Also, Fitz and Jemma make an assignation for their first time together and Fitz has a bit of freak out!


	18. Panic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz ponders Jemma's proposition. When they make an arrangement, it sends him into a panic as he wonders whether he's in over his head. The team interrogate Storch, and are shocked to discover why Ward wants the mind-reading device.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay with this update! I was away on a trip, and when I came back I had to contend with a sinus infection, catching up on work, and my dissertation - not to mention needing time to recover from the devastation of last week's episode! For some of the above reasons, I'm probably now going to be updating only once a week instead of twice, but the good news is that the chapters will be longer from now on in - including this one! Enjoy!

As Jemma had walked away from him, into her bunk, Fitz had sunk back into his seat in despair. She believed nothing would have to change if they had sex, but _everything_ had changed and they hadn’t even had sex yet. He had obviously hurt her by being so reticent about her proposal, but this wasn’t something they could just jump into. The idea was absolutely crazy. He couldn’t believe she actually wanted to do this. It was a huge risk and Jemma was not really one for taking risks. Not when it came to this sort of thing anyway. Yes, she took risks all the time in her work; yes, she loved the idea of adventure and discovery and yes, it had been her who had persuaded him to join this team and go into the field in the first place. But the kind of risks Jemma was willing to take, were always within the context of a rigidly adhered-to structure like Shield, or the scientific process. Jemma preferred rules and boundaries and clearly defined relationships. To be willing to muddy the waters between them in this way seemed so unlike her.

At the same, he couldn’t help feeling a deep sense of hurt and disappointment that this was _all_ she wanted. She wanted them to have sex but for nothing else in their relationship to change. Fitz had thought he didn’t want their relationship to change either. He’d had no idea where he had wanted this to lead… right up until the moment when she’d said that she wanted a friends with benefits arrangement. His heart had split with a crack he could almost hear, and the sudden realisation struck him that he had started to hope that they could be together in a different way. That maybe they could actually be the couple they’d been pretending to be for the last 24 hours. The idea of being with Jemma like that was so incredibly beguiling that he had started to suspect that he might actually be in love with her.

So now he was torn. She was saying that she wanted to have sex with him. Not just once, but on an ongoing basis. Meanwhile everything else in their relationship would stay the way it was. What could be wrong with that? Why was that so different from actually being in a relationship? And really, given that relationships between Shield agents were against regulations anyway, wasn’t this the most practical option? It wasn’t as if they’d ever be able to have a normal relationship anyway. There wasn’t a lot of opportunity for dating at the Playground. It was very seldom that they got a night off. It wasn’t like they got vacation time either, so holidays or even weekend getaways weren’t exactly possible. They would never be able to move in together while they remained on the base, they wouldn’t even have a lot of opportunity to be alone together outside of their quarters. An arrangement like this was really all they’d ever be able to have. So why did he feel so uncertain about it?

He wanted her to feel the same way he did, he realised. Even if a real relationship between them wasn’t possible, he just wanted her to want it as well. He wanted to feel like what was between them was real, not just ‘relieving their frustrations’ or whatever it was she’d said. ‘ _Satisfying their needs_ ’. He snorted. He wasn’t even sure he knew _how_ to satisfy Jemma’s needs. It wasn’t like he’d had a lot of experience with women. Although he had to admit, he really, really, _really_ wanted to be able to satisfy her needs. Even the idea of her having ‘needs’ was inescapably intriguing to him. He remembered how turned on she had been last night and he almost groaned aloud at the thought. What did she do now to relieve her frustrations?! He was suddenly very interested to find out. And really, when he thought about it, wouldn’t he just be a good friend to help her out with that? She had a point when she said that an arrangement like this was better than ill-advised affairs with other agents on the base. What if she did something like that, started sleeping with one of the guys in the garage or in the lab? Someone who didn’t respect her and care for her the way he did? If anyone was going to take care of Jemma’s needs, it really should be him.

He was being selfish and unrealistic to want more than that. He got up and walked over to her bunk and slid back the door.

 

It was with great reluctance that Fitz eventually pulled his mouth away from Jemma’s. She gave a little whimper of complaint that was so appealing he was tempted to just start kissing her again. But Hunter was right. If they were going to do this, then they needed to be sensible about it.

“I have to go now,” he whispered. “It’s not going to look good if anyone catches me in here with you.” He got up off the bed and turned to face her. “Besides, I need to stop before…well, you know…” He gestured vaguely at his crotch.

She gave a little sigh. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. “Storch will probably be waking up soon as well, so we’ll need to be there to ask him about the circlets.” She glanced up hopefully at him then, leaning back on her hands and pushing out her chest. “Will you come to my room tonight?” she asked flirtatiously. She bit her lip as she waited for his answer, her eyes dancing with excitement.

“Tonight?” His throat went dry and he swallowed several times in succession as he tried to moisten it. Oh god. This was actually going to happen. They were actually going to do this. He scratched his neck. “Um…yeah, tonight. Yeah…yeah, I will.”

Her forehead creased in a frown. “What’s the matter? Don’t you want to?”

“No, no,” he said, shaking his head emphatically. “I mean, yes, yes,” he said quickly as he saw her face fall. “Yes, I want to, I meant no, as in it’s not that I don’t want to…”

“Well, what is then?” she asked plaintively.

“It’s just… tonight? We’re going to… _tonight_?”

She shrugged. “Well, when do you want to?”

“Tonight. Tonight is good. Tonight. Tonight is it then.” He had a vague notion that he was both babbling and talking too fast. He spun round and walked out of her bunk before she noticed that he was having a sudden attack of nerves, the like of which he hadn’t experienced since they’d done their field tests.

He was going to have sex with Jemma tonight. She was frustrated, she had needs that she wanted him to take care of, and he didn’t have the first clue how to do that. In his 27 years, he’d only had sex with three women. His first time was when he was 16, with a girl at the university in Scotland where he’d done his PhD. She was pretty and popular and two years older than him, so he supposed it hadn't really been a surprise when he realised she was only using him to do her coursework for her. The sex had been over pretty fast and he’d been mortified. They had done it a second time, and she’d gone down on him beforehand to take the edge off. He’d come embarrassingly quickly then as well, not really having had any experience with girls before this. The sex that followed was nothing short of awful since she didn’t seem to be getting anything out of it whatsoever, and he cringed now every time he thought of it. It was only to be expected really when he saw her drunkenly grinding on the lap of a rugby player in the students’ union pub a few nights later.

Then he’d went on a few dates at the Academy with a chatty, nerdy girl called Katie, but although they’d kissed a few times, they never made it to the sex stage. That was around the time that he and Jemma had become lab partners, and he’d cancelled a date with Katie to work on a project with Jemma instead. He was just so excited to get started because Jemma’s ideas were just incredible and their discussions were giving _him_ lots of new ideas. He’d explained that to Katie, but for some reason, he’d never heard from her again. The next semester he’d had a very short-lived fling with a girl called Megan who’d been in his Advanced Aeronautical Engineering seminar. She had seemed quirky and fun and really into machines and he’d had a crush on her, but she was still hung up on a boyfriend who had dumped her so he hadn’t expected anything to happen. When she’d realised that Fitz was into her, she’d kissed him one night at the Boiler Room and asked him to come home with her. At the time, Fitz couldn’t believe his luck, but it turned out to be an absolute disaster. Megan was _really_ into sex – she talked like a porn star and wanted to do all kinds of things he had no idea even existed. Needless to say she had been very disappointed in Fitz, and became bossy and demanding, barking orders at him in bed. The whole thing was quite frightening and bewildering. He didn’t like the way she talked about Jemma either. She always made fun of her for being uptight and an overachiever, and constantly referred to her as ‘Hermione’ in a withering kind of tone. He found himself starting to avoid Megan after only a few days, and the whole thing ended rather embarrassingly when she corned him in the Boiler Room one night and started screaming at him in front of everyone – including Jemma. She had given his shoulder a reassuring squeeze after Megan had stormed off and invited him back to her dorm to eat pizza and watch Doctor Who. They had sat up until three in the morning discussing the possibility of harnessing the power of black holes, and Fitz had decided that dating was really a lot of work, and it was much easier just spending his time with Jemma.

He had stuck to that principle until they were at Sci-Ops and Jemma had started going on dates with a tall, handsome virologist called Craig. Fitz and Jemma shared an apartment at that time, and neither of them had much of a social life. They tended to spend their evenings together, continuing whatever they had been working on that day, going over blueprints and formulae for their designs. So he’d found himself at a loose end every time Jemma had a fling with someone. These usually didn’t last more than a few weeks before Jemma would get bored because the guy couldn’t keep up with her quick mind. It was usually at that stage that she would discover that whoever she was dating was already in full agreement that they should stop seeing each other. Each time she would come home and ask Fitz if it was true that she was ‘weird’, or if she talked about science too much, or if it was strange that the two of them spent so much time together. This routine had been the pattern since they’d been at the Academy. Of course, he always said no to all of these, but privately he knew that Jemma was a bit of an odd duck and that her many suitors were disconcerted by her lack of understanding of normal social interaction, as well as her all-consuming passion for her work. And nobody that either of them had ever been involved with had understood their relationship with each other, which – until now – had always been as natural to them as breathing.

Certainly Rachel hadn’t understood it. Rachel was a chemist who had worked in the same lab as Jemma and Fitz at Sci-Ops, and she had been quiet and awkward and clever. She was a nice girl and Fitz had got on really well with her at the start. It took him a long time to realise that she had been trying to flirt with him - really it only dawned on him when she eventually asked him out. It had gone pretty well for the first week or so, and he thought that there might be a chance that he could start to really like her. The sex was okay as well, it wasn’t earth-shattering or anything, but Fitz was starting to suspect that sex was vastly overrated. The few seconds of release he experienced really didn’t seem worth all the effort and anxiety and awkwardness that preceded it. But at least Rachel didn’t seem to be too demanding, although the fact that she really didn’t do much more than lie there and breathe heavily made him wonder if she was even enjoying it. He’d pondered whether he should try any of the things that Megan had made him do, but apart from the fact that he’d found them terrifying with Megan, something told him that Rachel wasn’t too experienced either and so he decided against it. The few times they had sex remained very business-like, but at least the conversations and the dates they had were pleasant enough. Then Jemma and Craig had broken up and Rachel had instantly become insecure and jealous over the amount of time he and Jemma were now spending together. She became so clingy and possessive and rude to Jemma that Fitz had to tell her that it wasn’t going to work if she couldn’t accept their friendship. He’d felt really bad seeing Rachel’s red-rimmed eyes and weepy expression around Sci-Ops for days afterwards, but really they’d only been together for two and a half weeks. That had been his longest attempt at a relationship and it had been almost four years ago. He hadn’t had sex since.

Which was why he was suddenly now in a near-panic. He was going to have sex tonight. With Jemma. He’d never been any good at in the first place, and now it had been so long, he wasn’t even sure he remembered what to do. The Fitz that had grabbed Jemma and thrown her down on the bed the night before, the Fitz that had pinned her up against the wall of the Bus - that was someone that he frankly didn’t recognise. It was a Fitz caught up in the adrenalin of an undercover mission as well as having Jemma’s body and touch and taste and scent bombarding his senses, driving him wild until he couldn’t take it anymore. It was a Fitz who didn’t have time to think about what he was doing or get nervous about it. The slightest touch from Jemma turned him on more than he ever had been before in his life and kissing her alone was better than any sex he’d ever had. In short, she drove him wild, and when he was with her like that, it was if he became someone else.

But now that he and Jemma had made this arrangement, that Fitz had suddenly departed and he was back to being the nervous, inexperienced Fitz who was bad at sex and useless with women. He had thought that he would maybe have some time to do some research on how to please Jemma – he was bound to find something on the internet that could help him. But for some reason, he hadn’t counted on her wanting to do it tonight, and he wasn’t sure he would have time to look up any kind of instruction once they got back to the base and had to face Coulson. This was a nightmare. An absolute nightmare. The sex was going to be terrible and Jemma was going to be so disappointed and she was never going to want to do that with him again and things were just going to be awkward between them.

He was on the verge of a near meltdown over all of this, when he heard a clatter of footsteps coming up the stairs. Skye appeared at the top, followed by a dazed and handcuffed Storch, who was being prodded from behind by Hunter. Storch stopped in his tracks when his eyes lit on Fitz. “You!” he cried. “Well, I never pegged you as Shield! You were much more believable as an engineer.”

“I am an engineer,” Fitz replied. “A Shield engineer.”

The door to Jemma’s bunk opened as he was saying this, and Jemma emerged. Her face was carefully arranged into the stony expression Fitz knew that she adopted in order to hide her nervousness around suspects. Feeling suddenly protective, Fitz shifted closer to her. Storch looked from one to the other.

“I bet this one’s not really a doctor, though,” he sneered at Jemma. “I _thought_ she was much too pretty.”

Before Jemma could speak, Fitz stepped in front of her. “Actually, no she’s not a medical doctor, technically. But Dr Simmons is an expert in the human body, she has two PhDs in biochemistry, she’s one of the world leaders in the field of xenobiology, and she is co-director of Shield’s Sci-Tech Division. _Amazing_ how she managed to do all that whilst still being pretty, but there you go.” Out of the corner of his eye, Fitz saw Jemma glance at him in what seemed like astonishment before biting back a pleased little smile.

Storch stared open-mouthed at both of them, before his eyes suddenly narrowed. “Co-director?” he asked. “Who’s the other?” He looked at Fitz. “Is that you, Leo? I’m sorry, is Leo even your real name?”

“It is, actually,” Fitz replied. “But it’s Leo Fitz, not Pond. And yes, I am the other director of the science division.”

“Wait a minute,” Storch said, frowning. “Fitz? Simmons? You two…you’re… _Fitzsimmons_?!“

Fitz gave a nod.

“Unbelievable!” Storch spluttered. “Twenty years I was busting my ass at Shield, getting absolutely nowhere, and all of a sudden everyone’s raving about Anne Weaver’s British prodigies and I’m getting overlooked while all these Shield teams are offering prestigious opportunities to two _12-year-olds_ who barely made it past one year at the Academy. And now you’re telling me that the two of you are _running_ the damn Science Division? There is no justice in the world, I tell ya!”

“Or maybe there is, and it’s fair enough that you didn’t get anywhere, since your work is mediocre at best, and the two of us invented technology that proved to be invaluable to Shield whilst we were still only at the Academy,” Fitz replied with a shrug.

“And perhaps the reason why your work at Shield proved to be mediocre, Dr Storch, is because your admittance to the Academy was based on your doctoral work on black holes – a thesis that showed a remarkable similarity to the kind of stuff your brilliant undergraduate room-mate Eric Zukav was working on before his drug addiction got out of control,” Jemma added. “Shield must have wondered why you never seemed to live up to your potential.”

Storch glared at her, before a sly look crept over his face. “Tell me, Dr Simmons,” he asked, “does whoever is running Shield these days…do they know that you two are breaking protocol?”

Fitz frowned at him, and Jemma stepped out past him. “What makes you think we’re breaking protocol, Dr Storch?”

Storch’s eyes widened in amazement. “Because it is against Shield protocol to have sex with a colleague, Dr Simmons,” he replied as if she was an idiot. “And fraternization is particularly frowned upon at the level of division heads.”

Jemma coloured. “No-one’s having sex with anyone, Dr Storch. Dr Fitz and I were undercover. It was necessary for you to believe that we were a couple so that you wouldn’t suspect that we were keeping you under surveillance. Anything you saw was part of that cover.”

Storch barked a disbelieving laugh. “I wasn’t talking about what I saw, Dr Simmons. Although, I do know what I saw as well, and I think we all know that wasn’t just part of a cover.” Skye tilted her head in confusion, and Hunter smirked, as Jemma glanced at Fitz in alarm. He shook his head warningly at her.

“We know what you’re doing, Max,” he said quickly, trying to cover how flustered Jemma looked. “You’re trying to embarrass Dr Simmons and I in order to deflect from your situation, and it won’t work.”

“No, I’m just pointing out what I know to be a fact,” Storch replied calmly. “You see, long-term use of my device has given me a certain ability now - the ability to smell human pheromones. The pheromones released when two people are sexually attracted to each other smell the strongest. And the two of you _absolutely reek_ when you’re around each other. It’s really _quite_ overwhelming.”

Fitz was stunned into a mortified silence, his face so hot it felt as if his embarrassment might cause lasting damage to his skin. He didn’t dare look at Jemma, but he could feel the discomfort emanating from her in waves. Skye was giving them both a really strange look, and Fitz felt like he’d never been so grateful to anyone in his life when Hunter suddenly came to their rescue.

“Why don’t you shut up!” he snarled, jabbing Storch’s shoulder with the tip of his ICER and giving him a push. “You think anyone’s going to believe a word you say? You think you’re so clever, but you had no idea Fitz and Simmons were Shield agents, did you? In fact, you told Fitz here everything he needed to know in order to work out what you were up to, you slimy git.”

“I didn’t know they were Shield, because they genuinely seemed like the scientists they are,” Storch retorted. “Since when do Shield scientists do undercover work anyway?” he retorted.

“Since _other_ Shield scientists started stealing 0-8-4s and using them to violate people’s thoughts without their knowledge,” Fitz replied tersely. “That’s what the circlets do, isn’t it? Take information from people’s minds?”

Storch paled and stared around at them all for a moment. “Please,” he whimpered, suddenly looking pathetic, “please don’t use it on me. I’ll tell you everything, I promise.”

Fitz, Jemma, Skye and Hunter all exchanged a look as they realised that Storch still thought they had the circlets. They made a silent agreement not to disabuse him of the notion.

“Give us one reason why we shouldn’t,” Hunter barked as he grabbed the back of Storch’s jacket. “How will we know you’re not lying to us?”

“I won’t, I won’t, I promise, I swear,” Storch cried desperately. “You can use a polygraph on me or anything, I’ll tell you everything you want to know, just please…don’t use those things on me.”

“Well, I can understand why you wouldn’t want a taste of your own medicine, Max,” Fitz replied. “But really, how will you know whether we use them or not? It’s not like you’ll remember them, is it?”

Storch stared at him in horror. He looked as if he might collapse and Hunter tightened his grip on the back of his jacket. “Anything you want to know,” Storch whispered. “I’ll tell you right now.”

“Fine.” The voice came from behind them and they all turned to see Trip standing there, obviously having just emerged from the cockpit. “We’ll start with the thing _I_ most want to know. How the hell does Grant Ward know about your device, Dr Storch?”

“He didn’t tell you?” Storch replied. He looked around. “You didn’t get him?”

“He got away,” Trip said. “Now, how do you know Grant Ward and how does he know about the device?”

Storch sighed. “He was the only person I couldn’t get to before I left Shield. He was posted to Paris shortly after we’d worked it out. That’s why he remembers. Grant Ward was the agent who got the device in the first place.”

“What do you mean he ‘got’ it?” Trip asked.

Storch sighed. “The circlets were uncovered a few years ago during a dig in Istanbul. They caused a lot of buzz in academic circles because of the markings – no-one had ever seen this language before. Of course, Shield recognised that the markings were probably alien and Agent Ward was sent in to retrieve the circlets. The archaeologists who had found them were _persuaded_ to retract their articles, saying that further examination revealed the circlets to be fake and the whole thing went away. Ward brought the circlets back to me, and I was supposed to study them and figure out what they were. I had absolutely no idea until I decided to try them on. I put one on myself and the other on my colleague, Dr Manning, and I realised that I could see her thoughts. Ward was there at the time, that’s how he knew. But when we realised that Dr Manning had no memory of either me reading her mind, nor indeed that the circlets existed at all, we agreed to keep the findings between the two of us. I would get to keep the circlets, and in return, Ward would get to borrow them.”

“But you double-crossed him,” Trip said. “Although, you got there before he did - Ward was Hydra, man, he wasn’t going to ‘borrow’ them, he was always planning to take the circlets from you. So Hydra knows about this technology, they want it now.”

“No, Hydra don’t know about the circlets,” Storch insisted. “Ward would never have told them, he didn’t want anyone else to know about the circlets. He wanted them for personal reasons, he wouldn’t have wanted Hydra taking them from him.”

“Yeah, he said something about that in the hangar,” Skye said. “Something about how he needed them for family business. What does that mean, Storch? What does Ward want the circlets for?”

“Remember you promised to tell the truth,” Hunter hissed, prodding Storch with his ICER again.

“Okay, okay,” Storch responded. “Ward needed the device for his brother.”

They all looked at each other in confusion.

“You mean Christian?” Skye asked. “The senator? Ward wants to read his mind?”

“No,” Storch replied. “Not Christian. His younger brother. Thomas, I think. And Ward doesn’t want to read his mind. He wants Thomas to read _his_ mind.”

“ _What?!_ ” Trip exclaimed in an almost high-pitched voice.

“What kind of fucked up shit is that?!” Hunter asked in astonishment.

“Oh, I get it,” Skye said in sudden realisation. “Ward wants Thomas to see that he never wanted to hurt him, doesn’t he? He wants him to see that Christian made him do it?”

“Exactly,” Storch nodded. “Ever since he saw what the circlets can do, he’s been obsessed with them. He thinks it’s the only way he can get Thomas to listen to him.”

“Okay, guys, this gives us a plan now,” Skye said, addressing the rest of them. “Ward may be crazy, but at least there’s usually a method to his madness. If we want to find Ward, we need to track down Thomas.” She turned back to Storch. “Hunter, put Dr Storch in the honeycomb room until we land. I’ll let Coulson know that we have a prisoner for him.”

“Coulson?” Storch replied. “Phil Coulson? Wait a minute, what is this?! Are you people even really Shield? Because Phil Coulson is dead, everyone knows that. He was killed during the Battle of New York.”

“And yet he’s alive and well and the Director of Shield now,” Skye retorted. “And he’s going to be so excited to meet up with you again, Max. Agent May as well. Especially since they found out that you read their minds and wiped their memories.” The colour drained from Storch’s face as Hunter hauled him towards the honeycomb room.


	19. The Assignation Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since Jemma excels at preparation, she puts a lot of work into getting ready for her rendezvous with Fitz. However she soon begins to worry that he's having second thoughts...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry that it took me so long to update this. You've probably all lost interest in it by now! I apologise sincerely, real life has been crazy and severely getting in the way of fanfic writing lately. Also I was really struggling with this chapter because I wanted to get it absolutely right. My first draft was over 8,000 words long, so I've split it into two. I'm in the process of editing the second part at the moment (since I'm still not happy with that), I don't want to leave you hanging for too long again, so I'm going to try and post it either later tonight or tomorrow.

As expected, Coulson was furious that Ward had stolen the circlets, but thankfully he didn’t blame Fitz, or anyone else on the team. After all, no-one could have anticipated Ward ambushing them like that. He congratulated them on a job well done in capturing Storch, and Jemma was pleased to note that he gave particular kudos to Fitz. It was really kind of adorable the way his ears turned pink and he scratched his neck in embarrassment. Trip and Hunter put Storch in the basement and Coulson ordered them all to get some rest whilst he and Bobbi went to interrogate the prisoner.

Jemma was too full of excitement and apprehension to rest. She had spent the rest of the flight sleeping, and now she needed to get ready for tonight. First she needed a shower after the exertions of this morning. She had shaved her legs the night before they’d flown to Malta, but it did no harm to run the razor over them again, just to make sure. And that expensive body lotion Skye had gotten her for Christmas that she never used could be put to good use now as well. It occurred to her, however, that she had nothing in the way of nice lingerie. All her underwear tended toward the practical, comfortable side of things, she had nothing but t-shirt bras and cotton knickers. She went through her top drawer and selected a black bra with lace edging and a pair of black knickers that had lace panels – they were the fanciest things she had and at a glance they looked like they could be matching set. As she got dressed however, she couldn’t help thinking how drab her room looked. Last night, when things had gotten hot and heavy with Fitz, they had been in a luxury hotel room with the moon shining in through the window and the sound of the sea outside. Her windowless, red brick quarters really didn’t have the same kind of ambience. She needed to go into town to get condoms anyway, so she made a mental note to buy some candles as well.

Careful thought went into her selection of clothing. She chose what she felt was her most alluring blouse – it was lower-cut than her other blouses, and it was a little bit see-through. She paired it with skinny jeans, as she never wore skirts on the base and it would look odd if she started now. But she put on a pair of flats instead of her usual boots, figuring that the flats were easy to kick off in the heat of the moment, but laces might prove an untimely distraction. As she applied her make-up, she realised that her hands were trembling and she was incredibly flustered. It was normal to be nervous, she reasoned – after all, it had been some three years since the last time she’d had sex. And this time it was going to be with Fitz.

She lowered her mascara wand and took a deep breath. This was real. This was happening. Tonight she, Jemma Simmons, was going to have sex with her best friend in the world. _How on earth had they come to this?!_ If someone had told her this was going to happen, back when she and Fitz were at the Academy, she would never have believed them. Her friendship with Fitz had always been much too precious to her to ever consider risking it in this way. So what had changed? She had no idea what was happening to her. The voice that dominated in Jemma’s brain, the one that always made her follow the rules, that always pushed her to excel in everything she did, that was constantly anxious about what was going to happen in the future, was practically screaming at her that this was a very bad idea. But for some reason, and for the first time in her life, Jemma wasn’t listening to this voice. She didn’t understand why she felt this way, but she didn’t care that it was a bad idea, she had never wanted anything so much. She was going to throw caution to the wind. She was going to do it anyway.

A cursory check of the medical supply cupboard and the notion that they could possibly use more bandages was all the cover she needed for her trip into town. She borrowed a car from Mack and drove to the pharmacy. She thought she might as well get a large supply of condoms, since she figured that this was going to be a long-term arrangement. She spent so long trying to decide which ones to buy out of the overwhelming choice on display that when she finally left the pharmacy with the biggest box she could see, she realised she’d forgotten the bandages and had to go back in for them. After all, it would look weird her coming back without the one thing she told people she was going out for. Then she went into a homeware store and grabbed some candles before realising that she would need candle holders of some sort as well. After some prevaricating over those, she decided that perhaps candles were a bit much, and opted for some fairy lights instead. Fitz hadn’t been in her room for a while, and she could pretend that they were just something she had bought before Malta to brighten the place up.

Dinner was being served when she arrived back at the base. There were garlic roasted potatoes on offer with the chicken, which Jemma loved but she felt they were probably not a good idea under the circumstances. She opted for rice instead and gave a little smile to herself when she noticed Fitz choosing rice as well – it was definitely not like him to turn down garlic potatoes. She was a little hurt that Fitz didn’t sit with her however. Instead he sat further down the table with Mack and Hunter and somehow avoided looking at her all through the meal. Jemma started to panic that he had changed his mind about the whole thing and was afraid to tell her. Sneaking little glances at him, she observed that he didn’t eat much, pushing his dinner around his plate instead. He didn’t appear to be listening to whatever Mack was talking to him about either. She worried that he might be ill, and then castigated herself for the very selfish reasons she hoped that wasn’t the case. As she watched him, she caught Hunter’s eye. He gave her a knowing smirk, and she felt herself blush furiously as she quickly returned her focus to the meal in front of her. _Bloody Hunter!_ Of course, of all people, _he_ would have to catch her and Fitz in the act! She knew that there was no danger of Hunter telling anyone about them – after all, Hunter knew that neither she nor Fitz had told anyone about his liaisons with Bobbi before Coulson worked it out for himself – but she also knew that he would enjoy holding their secret over them a little bit. Just enough to tease them with it. Which would be fine if she wasn’t so worried about Hunter’s teasing possibly spooking Fitz. In fact, maybe that was what had happened to make him so skittish…

As she and Skye were helping clear the plates from the table, she saw Hunter hand Fitz one of the bottles of beer he had just lifted out the fridge. He clapped Fitz on the shoulder as he said something to him. Fitz took the beer with a grateful smile and then the two of them walked out of the room together. Jemma felt sick. Maybe Fitz needed some Dutch courage to tell her that he wanted out of the arrangement? Maybe he had already talked to Hunter about it and they were off to plan what he was going to say now? She stacked the dishwasher in a haze of anxiety, barely listening to Skye talking about how she hadn’t been able to find a single trace of Thomas Ward on the internet yet. When Skye asked if she was okay, she said she was feeling a little ill and excused herself. Skye wondered aloud if there might have been something wrong with the rice because Jemma and Fitz were the only people who’d had it, and he had complained about not feeling well either. That just made Jemma feel worse, and she hurried to her room with her head down, lest anyone notice the tears that were threatening.

After a good cry in her room, she decided that the best thing to do was to go and talk to Fitz, to tell him that she was letting him out of their agreement, that she had made a mistake thinking that they could jeopardise their friendship in this way and she hoped that he could forgive her, and that they could agree never to speak of it again. She cleaned herself up first and re-did her make-up, so that he wouldn’t see how upset she’d been. She really didn’t know why she was so upset about this either; it was ridiculous, she was behaving like an adolescent girl with a crush, instead of a grown woman who had agreed to platonic, no-strings attached sex. Maybe it was better that they didn’t go down this road, if this was the way it was going to make her behave. She straightened herself up in the mirror, took a deep breath and opened her door…to find Fitz standing there with a binder in his hands.

“Oh!” She almost jumped back in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

Fitz looked at her in alarm. “You…told me to come? Um…remember…?”

A quick glance at her watch told Jemma that it was eight, and she realised that this was Fitz arriving for their assignation. He was here. He was actually here. But no…why did he have a binder? Maybe this was him coming to tell her that he couldn’t go through with it. She stepped aside to let him into the room, and closed the door behind him, steeling herself for the conversation that was ahead. Fitz stood awkwardly in the middle of the room holding the binder. He smiled nervously at Jemma as she approached him, waiting for him to speak. But he didn’t, just shuffled his feet as he looked around the room. She couldn't bear the anxiety much longer so she decided to start the conversation herself, just to get it over with.

“So…what’s with the binder?” she asked him.

“Hunter,” he replied simply.

Jemma stared at him in confusion.

“Oh, um…Hunter…he said I should bring files or something with me so that if anyone saw me going to your room they would think I was coming to talk to you about work,” Fitz explained.

“Oh.” Jemma was stunned. “That’s actually smart.”

“Yeah,” Fitz said enthusiastically, “and I even brought the lab security protocol binder, because I was going to say, in case anyone asked, that we were going to review it in light of the Storch case, to make sure that no Shield scientist can ever abscond with any sensitive item or material again.”

“Fitz!” Jemma breathed. “That’s genius!” Fitz looked inordinately pleased with himself. “Only we should really actually do that at some stage,” she continued, as she realised that it was the obvious thing to do now, and if her head hadn’t been so full of the prospect of sleeping with Fitz, she would have thought of doing that the minute they got off the plane.

“Yeah,” Fitz responded sheepishly, “we probably should.” He wielded the binder awkwardly for a moment as if he wasn’t sure what to do with it now, so Jemma retrieved it from his grasp and placed it on her desk. She turned back to face him, uncertain what this binder ploy implied about his presence here, but as she did, Fitz suddenly lunged at her face. Alarmed, she opened her mouth to ask him what he was doing but realised too late that he was attempting to kiss her. That answered her question about why he had come, but their mouths met as she was in the process of forming words and their teeth clacked horribly together.

“OWWW!”

“Ah, shite! I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he cried in a panicked voice, as he rubbed his own mouth. “Are you okay?”

“What the hell, Fitz?! Did you take an awkward pill this evening?!”

“Yes, yes, I seem to have. I’m sorry, I thought the beer would help, but…”

“What do you mean you thought the beer would help?!” she asked in indignation. “You’re telling me you needed alcohol just to sleep with me?!”

“No! No, of course not! It’s just…”

“It’s just what, Fitz?” Jemma folded her arms in an attempt to restrain the emotions that were threatening to spill over their friendship and make an awful mess of it. “You’ve been really cagey about this since I mentioned it, if you don’t want this, then that’s fine, just tell me. I’m a big girl, I can take it,” she snapped, knowing that it was a complete lie and if he told her that, she would crumble inside like an old building being demolished.

“No, Jemma, it’s not that I don’t want to,” he said, grabbing her hand. “It’s just…I’m just really nervous, okay? Like, really nervous. I haven’t done this in a long time, and I wasn’t exactly experienced to begin with.” His voice dropped as he said this and he looked away shamefacedly. She sat down on the bed in surprise.

“Well…neither am I,” she replied. “On both counts.”

“Yeah, but you’re a bit more experienced than I am. You’re probably a good bit more experienced than I am…which isn’t really something I want to think about.” He frowned and then shook his head. “And you know, I want it to be…y’know…good…for you,” he continued, “I don’t want to disappoint you, Jemma. I’m just really worried that it’s going to be crap for you and then you’re going hate me.”

Her heart swelled so much it felt like it was going to burst out of her chest. It almost brought her to tears that he’d gotten himself into such a state, over something that could never ever happen. “Oh, Fitz,” she cried, “don’t be ridiculous, I could never hate you! Not for any reason, and especially not for bad sex. And it’s not going to be crap, not if last night or earlier on the Bus are anything to go by. That was…anything but crap. In fact, it was… _incredible_.”

Fitz smiled shyly at her as he scratched his neck. “It was?”

She nodded emphatically. She needed to communicate to him exactly how misplaced his anxiety was. “It was. I’ve never…I mean, any time before…with anyone else…what I’m trying to say is that…I just…I’ve never been that _turned on_ before.”

Fitz’s face glowed a charming shade of pink and he looked absolutely delighted with himself. “Really?! Nah, you’re just saying that!”

“I’m not, Fitz, honestly! You know me, I would tell you if you were doing something wrong.”

“Well, that’s true,” he considered. “And I mean, obviously, you already know that you…that I…well, I’ve never been that turned on before either. Like, ever. At all. It was sort of crazy?”

“It was,” Jemma admitted. Her stomach sank as something occurred to her. “But you’re not now?”

He looked at her questioningly. “Not what?”

She tutted impatiently. “Not turned on, Fitz!”

“Well, not right at this moment, no!" he spluttered. "I told you, I’m too nervous!”

“I don’t understand, you didn’t seem at all nervous in Malta,” she replied.

“Well, no. I mean, earlier on the Bus, that was the adrenalin. And last night…I don’t know. I don’t know what came over me, I don’t know who that was. It was just…it had been building up all day. You know, you in that bikini and pretending to be a couple and that place…I was just so frustrated I didn’t have time to be nervous. I didn’t think about it, you know? It all just happened…”

“So, you’re just nervous now because you’re in your head about it?” she asked. “Not…for any other reason?”

“Like what?”

“Like…” she shrugged. “You think it might be a mistake? You seemed to think earlier on that this would be a mistake.”

Fitz looked at her like he wanted to say something, but decided not to. He sat down on the bed beside her, leaning forward and resting his forearms on his thighs. “I still think yes, this could be a mistake,” he said. “To be honest, I think it probably is.” He scratched his arm, staring at it as he spoke. “But I think…” He sighed and lifted his head to look at her. “If it is a mistake, then it’s a mistake I want to make. Maybe it’s the wrong thing, but I don’t know, I want to do it anyway. What I’m nervous about…is that you’ll think it’s a mistake. I just…I would feel very bad about that. I just want to be sure that you know what you’re getting into.”

There was a moment of disconnect between Jemma’s mind and her body, so that by the time she had recovered from his incredibly sweet words, she realised that she was already kissing him. Fitz raised his hands to her face, gently cradling her jaw as he kissed her back, softly and almost tentatively, with a slight pause between each kiss as if he was waiting to see her reaction. His kisses did not have the same urgency or heat as when they had been in Malta but instead they had their own delicate sweetness, and Jemma savoured each one, revelling in the sensation that it existed for its own sake, and not as a means to an end. Her body luxuriated in the gentle shivers and tingles that each touch of his lips against hers created and she felt like she could just go on kissing him like this forever.

It was only the thought of where else he could place such sweet kisses that made her press forward and deepen the kiss slightly, still keeping it slow and deliberate and as if each kiss was her whole world. Her hand rested lightly against his face, as his fingers brushed gently down her neck, sending shivers down her spine. His hand came to rest at the base of her neck and his thumb stroked back up again, caressing the column of her throat. There was something so tender about the movements of both his lips and hand that she felt almost as if she was floating outside her body. She had never experienced anything so gentle and so _loving_ before. ‘Loving’ was the wrong word, surely? It wasn’t _love_ love, obviously – after all Fitz was her best friend, not a boyfriend - but there was still a kind of love involved and it was making her weirdly emotional, maybe even confusing things a little. This obviously must be because it was her best friend she was making out with. This was her Fitz, her person, the partner she had shared everything with over the last ten years. There was so much history and trust and affection between them, it was no wonder that all of that was making itself felt in every kiss. It was almost overwhelming, and Jemma needed to pause for a second, leaning her forehead against his as she exhaled. The breath stuttered and staggered its way out of her body like it was drunk and in return Fitz let out an equally inebriated sigh. It occurred to that she would need to be very careful in this arrangement not to get carried away and let the boundaries get blurred. This was about sex after all, and she couldn’t afford even her emotions about their friendship to get involved here.

Grabbing the back of his head and pulling it towards her, she kissed him hard then, flicking her tongue into his mouth. He whimpered as he dropped his hands lower, running them down her back first, before sliding one of them sensuously along her thigh. The movement set fire to her skin despite the fact that she was still wearing her jeans. It was like a switch was flipped, the floodgates opened and her groin filled up with heat. Fitz grasped her thigh and pulled it up over his so she was half astride him as their mouths locked together. Suddenly everything became incredibly intense, infused with a passion that was melting her bones. They were kissing like they both needed it to live. She never imagined that the sounds of sucking, slurping and heavy nasal breathing could be so profoundly erotic. The way in which Fitz’s breath was getting faster and deeper as he kissed her, whilst he gripped her tighter and tighter was especially intoxicating and she let out a little whine before she could help it.

Fitz paused for breath again, and stared at her. They were both panting, all their pent-up, unexpressed desire for each other shoe-horned into each hard exhalation. He leaned in again to kiss her, but the pause had given her enough time to take in her surroundings and she remembered how she’d forgotten to put up the fairy lights she’d bought. She couldn’t explain it, she knew it was ludicrous, but it was suddenly very important to her that they put the fairy lights up before they had sex. She held her hand against his chest to stop him. His expression transformed from one of intense desire to a mixture of shock, panic and not a little hurt.

“God, Fitz, I’m so sorry,” she gasped. “I know this is crazy, I really do, but I bought these fairy lights and I was going to put them up before you came, but I forgot, and I really wanted to have them up…I mean, last night, everything was so perfect, and this room…it just doesn’t feel the same, and I wanted it to feel…I don’t know…special? Or something?” He was staring at her as if she’d gone insane. “This is crazy, isn’t it?” she continued, dropping her head in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, never mind, just forget about it.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” he assured her quickly. “I get it, I really do. Where are they and I’ll put them up for you.”

She stared at him in astonishment, not quite believing he could be so understanding of such an odd request. “Um…they’re in that bag over there in the corner, but you don’t have to honestly. It was a silly idea, I don’t know why I said it.”

“No, it’s fine,” Fitz said, tapping her thigh as a request for her to remove it so that he could get up.

She complied and he stood up awkwardly, as if he were somewhat in pain. She was about to ask if he was okay when she saw him adjust his jeans to accommodate the protrusion at the front, and she bit back a smile as he walked stiffly over to the bag. She lay back on the bed to watch as he strung the lights up over the bed using the adhesive strips that Jemma normally used to hang pictures. She felt kind of bad watching him work instead of making out, while she appreciated the view of his behind as he stood on a chair to reach up, but the minute he turned the lights on, she was so glad that she had insisted on this. Her room now looked like some sort of magical grotto – much more conducive to the activity they had planned than the stark military base aesthetic. She gave a pleased little giggle and clapped her hands as she surveyed them, before turning to see Fitz grinning at her excitement. She stood up from the bed and threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you so much, this is perfect!” she exclaimed as she hugged him. “This looks so much more romantic now.” The minute it escaped her lips, she grimaced against his neck. _What the hell did she use that word for?!_


	20. The Assignation Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moment is finally upon us! Very NSFW - if you want to avoid smut then you should really skip this chapter. All you need to know is that...well...Jemma and Fitz have sex!

Jemma froze. It was entirely possible her heart had stopped. She had really said that out loud, she had actually told Fitz that the room looked more ‘romantic’ with the fairy lights! _Oh god, what was she going to do now?!_ She didn’t want him to think that she thought of this as a _romantic_ occasion. Now he was going to worry that she had feelings for him and that this whole ‘friends with benefits’ thing was just a ruse. He was probably going to get so uncomfortable and try and extricate himself from the situation, and things would be so awkward because he thought she was in love with him now. _And she wasn’t even sure why the hell she’d said that._

She opened her mouth to quickly rectify the situation, but the sudden shivery feeling of his warm breath washing over her neck made her forget what she was going to say. “Yeah. It does,” he murmured in her ear.

She pulled back in surprise. He thought it was romantic too?! Jemma was bemused, Fitz had never been one for appreciating either aesthetics or romance. Quite the opposite, in fact. Then again, he did come up with that beautiful falling meteor proposal idea unbelievably quickly. There was clearly a side to Fitz she had yet to discover. Not that _she_ would be discovering it obviously, it wasn’t likely that Fitz was going to be pulling gestures like that out of the hat for _her_. For some strange reason that thought caused a pang, and she berated herself for getting carried away again. Then she saw the way Fitz was looking at her and her breath caught in her throat. The electric blue colour of his eyes was almost searing, making her feel like she was already naked. She literally felt weak at the knees. She had never understood that expression until now, but her knees physically felt like they were about to buckle under her. Self-consciously, she lowered her eyes, but he placed a gentle hand under her chin, tilting it back up towards him as he lowered his lips to hers. She was undone. She slid closer to him, lifting her hand to caress his neck as she responded. This time the kiss was deeper, but unhurried, still feeling as if it was everything in the world that she wanted. Fitz’s hands slid around her waist, pulling her closer to him and she felt cocooned in his warmth and attention.

Without breaking their kiss, Fitz walked her backwards towards the bed. When the backs of her knees hit the edge, Jemma lowered herself down and Fitz followed. His body was pressed on top of hers, one of her legs hooked around his, her other leg bent to allow him to slot neatly between her thighs. Her nostrils were full of his scent, so familiar and yet so exhilaratingly new, while his tongue exploring her mouth felt like a sacred rite. His hand stroked up and down her fully-clothed body, gentle and reverent, and yet still setting her nervous system ablaze. Suddenly aware of all the layers of clothing between her skin and his, she felt a need to be rid of them in order to be closer to him. Her fingers began fumbling at the buttons of his shirt, but she almost regretted it, because the minute he realised what she was doing, he pulled away from her and sat back on his knees to take it off himself. She swallowed a whine of disappointment at the loss of him, and instead set about unbuttoning her own shirt. Which turned out to be a remarkably good idea because Fitz’s eyes avidly followed the progression of skin being revealed as her hands moved down each button. She had the wicked notion to stop when she got to the middle of her breasts, both to prolong his agony and because the thought of leaving the rest for him to undo was making her shiver in anticipation. Instead she started taking off her belt. Fitz was already pulling wildly at his, and at one point, he hopped off the bed to toe off his sneakers.

“Take your jeans off too, while you’re up,” Jemma said, both the words and her voice surprising her. It sounded low and throaty and not like her at all. It had evidently taken Fitz by surprise too, as he stopped mid-action and stared at her, his mouth hanging open and his exploded pupils turning his soft blue eyes hard and black. It didn’t take him long to comply however, and Jemma started to unbutton her own jeans as he tumbled out of his, revealing the bulge in his trunks that she’d really only gotten a glimpse of in Malta. She sighed and bit her lip as she watched him move towards her. There was something so unexpectedly _manly_ about seeing Fitz like this, and for some reason it made her feel entirely feminine and desirable. She revelled in that sensation as he climbed back onto the bed, kissing her quickly before positioning his body over hers again in an almost predatory fashion. Grabbing the waistband of her jeans on both sides, he began to peel them off slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on her face the whole time, which felt even more intimate than the fact he was removing her clothes. Jemma ran her hands over his hands and arms, relishing the feeling of his muscles and veins beneath her palms as he discarded her jeans. Then he finally set to unbuttoning the rest of her blouse, slowly and deliberatly, his breath becoming more ragged as he undid each button. He loosed the last one and slid his hands over her naked stomach, pushing the shirt to each side. The heat of his hands was doing wonderful things to her insides, and she closed her eyes to heighten the experience. As he his hands moved upwards, Jemma had the sudden and rather vain thought that she didn’t want to be lying down the first time he saw her breasts, so she pushed herself up into a kneeling position in front of him. Fitz’s hands dropped from her stomach and came up to cup her face instead, as he kissed her slowly and deeply while she shrugged her shirt off her shoulders. He released her mouth and looked downwards, his sigh reverberating on her insides as his eyes feasted on the outside of her body. She had never felt so incredibly sexy in her life.

Fascinated, Fitz trailed his hand over the top of her breast, down along her ribs to her hip and back up again, before lifting his eyes to meet hers. The mixture of awe and desire that she saw there sucked the breath right out of her chest – it reminded her of when he’d first seen her in her bikini, when she first knew for certain that he wanted her. _Badly_. She gazed at him, astonished that anyone could find her as compelling as he clearly did. And as she did, she couldn’t help noticing how incredibly beautiful he was himself. She kissed him hungrily, letting her hands roam over his bare chest and arms, whilst his nervously brushed over the tops of her breasts. She nipped and sucked at his earlobe and along his jaw whilst his fingers ran along the lace edging of her bra, before following the straps up over her shoulders and down to the clasp at the back. There they stilled, hovering slightly, uncertain.

“You can take it off, Fitz,” she whispered against his lips with a smile.

For all his apparent hesitation, the clasp was undone in one deft flick of his hand. He pulled away from her mouth, his eyes now focused on her body. Grasping the straps, he peeled the bra off her, unabashedly staring at her naked breasts. His expression was one of exquisitely painful want, his gaze almost physical, as if he could actually touch her skin with it.

“Jesus, Jemma, you’re so beautiful,” he breathed as he met her eyes again. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” His words, the quiver in his voice, the awestruck look on his face – they were all going to her straight to her head like champagne on Christmas morning. She felt dizzy. No-one had ever before made her feel this desired, and yet so safe and comfortable. The only reply she felt able to give was to kiss him again. Lying back down onto the bed, she pulled him on top of her. The feeling of his skin against hers felt incredible, and it occurred to her what an intensely intimate experience it was to hold someone like this, just skin on skin, your nerve endings moving against theirs. She had never felt closer to anyone in her life. She briefly wondered why she’d never experienced this before with other partners she’d had, and concluded that maybe that all those years of friendship with Fitz had heightened the intimacy of their nakedness.

Right now though, she didn’t care because the only thing she could focus on was the way he was worshipfully exploring the contours of her body with his hands. He seemed particularly enamoured of her breasts, which he was gently caressing like they were the most precious objects on earth. His fingers kept grazing over her nipples, which were almost embarrassingly erect. Jemma bit back a shamefully loud moan and it was a strain to keep her hips from thrusting towards his. She arched her back to push her breasts more firmly against his hand and he seemed to get the hint, watching her face now instead of her body, as he ran his thumb in circles around her left nipple. The pressure was mounting inside of her and his touch was still maddeningly inadequate. She wanted him to use his mouth instead of his hands, and she didn’t even care that she was whining now and practically writing with impatience. She gripped the back of his head and pulled his mouth towards hers, her tongue lasciviously entering his mouth before their lips even touched. He responded with the same kind of hunger his kisses in Malta had demonstrated, almost savaging her mouth before sucking her bottom lip into his mouth. He released it with a pop and began kissing his way down her neck. Jemma gasped in pleasure as his hot, moist lips met the sensitive area while his forefinger and thumb still played with her nipple. She could swear she felt him grin against her neck.

Eventually, and oh so slowly, his mouth made its way down to her breast, and she arched her back almost violently again, in a desperate and unabashed attempt to get him to give her what she needed. Fitz groaned at the sight and instantly dropped his lips right to where she wanted them, kissing her right nipple softly before flicking his tongue over the surface of it. Jemma emitted a needy whine, to which Fitz responded with a whispered “Fuck”, before finally taking the nipple into his mouth and sucking on it. Jemma let out a moan and he sucked harder. A fire was blazing in her core now and she was virtually throbbing with need for him. She wantonly thrust her hips upward, trying to meet his pelvis, but it was pressed against her thigh. She could feel his erection digging almost painfully into her flesh.

Fitz had moved over to her other nipple, whilst his hand was stroking over her belly, making it tighten with anticipation. His fingers moved lower and lower until they were right at the edge of her underwear. She could feel the muscles spasm beneath his hand and she gasped a strangled “Fitz”, her voice pleading with him to read her mind. People had always said they were psychically linked, and for once Jemma thought there might be something in it, as Fitz released her nipple and moved down her body, kneeling back on his feet again as he slid his fingers down each side of her knickers and slowly pulled them off. He let out a kind of a soft groan as he removed them, throwing them to one side.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he whispered as he pushed his hands along her thighs. Jemma nodded dumbly, her mind seemingly unable to form words. He lay back down over her and began to kiss her softly again. It didn’t feel remotely like what she needed in that moment and she was about to complain when his finger unexpectedly swiped through her hot, wet folds, the delicious shock of the contact making her cry out into his mouth. He released her lips as he stroked her, his wild, black eyes watching her face with the intense expression of a an artist putting the careful finishing touches to his masterpiece. His nimble fingers soon found her clit and her insides became molten, pleasure pushing them up against her skin in a way that made her feel as if it would crack with the pressure. Jemma bit down hard on her bottom lip, but somehow a continuous muffled whine was still escaping her mouth. Fitz was breathing hard as he watched her, kissing her almost roughly every so often, and she knew he was enjoying this almost as much as she was. Eventually he finally slid first one, and then two fingers inside her, his thumb pressing down on her mons so that his fingers were sliding back and forth over her G-spot. It all became too much in a very short space of time.

The heat and the pressure were more than her body could contain and her body exploded into orgasm. The shock waves ripped through her and she bucked uncontrollably, her hands grasping desperately at him, at the sheets beneath her, at anything that could anchor her so she wouldn’t float off. She keened wildly, only to have Fitz stop her mouth with a kiss meant to absorb the sound. She knew he was panicking about someone hearing her, but she couldn’t help it, she had momentarily lost all control of her vocal chords – as well as pretty much everything else in her body. Her mind had gone utterly blank and for a split second she felt total bliss. She was overcome by a momentary reckless urge to tell Fitz she loved him, an impulse that horrified her as soon as her senses began to return, and she was incredibly thankful that she wasn’t able to speak for the way Fitz was ferociously trying to swallow the sounds she was making as he kissed her. As her cries subsided into whimpers and gasps, Fitz finally released his hold on her mouth, his face looking like he had just witnessed the birth of a galaxy.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice part astonishment and part concern. Jemma laughed with what little breath she had left as she came back down into her body.

“Fucking hell, Jemma, that was _incredible_ ,” he whispered hoarsely. “I’m serious, that was the _sexiest_ fucking thing I’ve ever seen. You’re amazing!”

“I didn’t do anything, that was all you,” she replied with breathless fondness. She reached for him, pulling him down for a kiss. As she did so, his cock pressed against her still swollen sex and instantly her stomach contracted, filling up with heat again. She gasped and Fitz let out a moan, as he thrust almost imperceptibly against her. “Fitz,” she whimpered, “let’s have sex now. Please?”

“Oh, Christ, yes!” he groaned. He pushed back up as if to climb off her.

“Where are you going?” she asked, almost in alarm.

He looked confused. “To get a condom,” he replied, gesturing towards his jeans which were lying in a heap on the floor. “I have one this time. Hunter gave it to me.”

“No, it’s okay,” she whispered, gripping his arm to keep him close. She reached out one arm to open the drawer of her bedside locker. “I have some here.” She fumbled about until her fingers touched the box she had purchased earlier. She grabbed it, suppressing a giggle at the way Fitz’s eyes widened when he saw the size of the box she had bought.

“Jesus Christ, Jemma!” he exclaimed with a laugh. “That's a hell of a lot of condoms! You are clearly planning for us to have a lot of sex then,” he said with an adorably mischievous grin.

“Oh yes,” she whispered, smiling back at him.

“Okay. Well, good, because I’ll probably need the practice,” he replied sheepishly, “before…you know…I’m able to make you…”

“ _Oh, shut up_!” she exclaimed, rolling her eyes as she pressed the box against his chest impatiently. “Fitz, you literally just gave me a mind-blowing orgasm with only your fingers!”

His expression changed to one of astonishment, mixed with not a little pride. “It was mind-blowing?” he asked. “ _Seriously_?”

“Oh, don’t be so modest, you were there, you saw it!” she replied, with a playful nip at his arm. She kissed him before whispering against his lips. “I’m not kidding when I say that was the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had, Fitz, and I need you to stop talking and get one of these on, because I really, really need you inside me now.”

“ _Oh fuck!_ ” Fitz’s eyes widened before he kissed her roughly. He immediately began tearing the box open, spilling the wrapped condoms everywhere as he seized one and ripped it open.

“Fitz? Aren’t you forgetting something?”

He froze in the middle of pulling the condom out of the wrapper and stared at her in confusion.

She gently lifted the condom out of his hand and gestured towards his crotch. “Your underwear?” He looked down at his trunks. “Take them off,” Jemma whispered.

“Oh yeah.” He clambered up and quickly pulled them off, looking somewhat embarrassed for Jemma to see him. His cock, impossibly hard and angry, sprung forth as he did so, and Jemma sucked in a breath. The startling intimacy of seeing her best friend’s erect penis was quite thrilling enough, but the knowledge that it was hungry for her was an intensely erotic experience. She squeezed her thighs together, resisting the urge to touch herself out of impatience as she waited for him. Fitz manoeuvred himself back down on top of her but she brushed his hand out of the way as he reached for the condom. Squeezing the air out of the tip, she slipped the condom over the head of his cock and began gently rolling it down his shaft, giving him a good squeeze with her other hand. Fitz let out a shuddering breath and swore, and she bit back a mischievous smile. She reached the end of his shaft, making sure it was secure before lifting her head to kiss him softly. Taking his cock in his hands, Fitz slid it slowly through her slit, making her break off the kiss with a gasp.

“Oh god, Fitz,” she gasped. “Now! _Please!_ ”

“You’re sure?” he murmured as he gazed down at her, his eyes dark and bottomless like she could fall in if she wasn't careful and never get out.

“Yes, yes, yes, I’m sure,” she practically whined. She felt more ready than she'd ever been in her life. He lined himself up at her entrance, using his fingers to part her folds, and began to push. It took them both by surprise how easily he slid inside her. Simultaneously their mouths dropped open in silent gasps at the exquisite friction. Fitz leant his forehead against hers as he stilled for a moment, seemingly trying to compose himself. As the ripples of pleasure caused by his initial push subsided, Jemma was relishing the feeling of him filling her up, her muscles expanding to accommodate him. Her best friend in the world was inside her and it felt so fucking good. She gripped his back as she kissed him, making slight thrusts of her hips in order to feel more of him, but she couldn’t get much momentum going under the weight of his prone body. Fitz got the message though. He began to move, slowly and gently at the start, stoking the heat inside her with each cautious movement. He maintained the slow speed but his thrusts began to get deeper, each stroke lighting fuses of almost breathtaking pleasure that petered out just before they reached the explosive inside her. She moaned in time with each one, but Fitz was desperately trying to bite back the noises that kept escaping his mouth, his body almost shaking from the strain of keeping himself under control.

“It’s okay, Fitz,” she whispered. “You can go faster.”

He shook his head. “I can’t,” he gasped. “I have to go slowly or else I won’t last very long. _You’re too bloody exciting, Jemma._ ”

She stroked her hand over his back. She had already come, so she didn’t mind if he let himself go now, but she knew how anxious he had been that she wouldn’t enjoy it, and she knew it would impact his self-esteem if he didn’t at least get her close to orgasm during sex. She also wasn’t about to tell him that she had never actually orgasmed during penetrative sex before, as it would only increase the pressure he was clearly feeling. Plus, although it was selfish of her, she had been waiting for this for so long and she wanted to enjoy it. “I know,” she replied soothingly, “why don’t I go on top for a while? It will slow things down a bit for you, but it’ll probably get me there faster.”

He nodded vigorously, before pulling out and rolling onto his back. The loss made her feel empty, so she straddled him almost aggressively before lowering slowly back down onto his cock. It felt so delicious she moaned loudly and Fitz gave a soft chuckle.

“Sssshhhh, Jemma. You’re going to have to be quieter this time. I can’t reach your mouth from he…. _oh!_ ”

Jemma had leant forward and grasped the headboard of her bed with both hands, and was slowly sliding up and down his cock, her moans sounding pornographic even to her own ears. “ _I…can’t…be…oh…qui…ooh…quiet_ ,” she gasped.

Fitz’s forehead was creased in agonized lust and his hands were on her breasts now, as he played with her nipples again. “You’re going to have to,” he groaned, his voice deep and gravelly now. “Someone will hear.”

“I don’t care,” she replied breathlessly. “And that’s not… _helllllppping! Oh god_!” She lifted her hands off the bedrail, and leant back as she slowly rode him. The heat inside her was almost at the point where it was unbearable.

“ _Fuck, Jemma_!” he gasped in response, his hips bucking to meet her. “You will care tomorrow,” he continued in a whisper, as his hands dropped to her hips and gripped them tight, pushing and pulling her back and forward, increasing the strength of her movements. They both moaned in tandem then. It was astonishing that someone with as little experience as she knew Fitz had was able to not only get her so aroused, but to also get her off with so little effort. It would never have occurred to her before but it seemed that the two of them were just as compatible in this area as they were in every other one. She honestly couldn’t remember ever having had sex like this, where every single micro-movement was driving her out of her mind. She leaned forward again to stroke his chest, and Fitz sat up suddenly, sliding his hands up her back and pulling her closer into him as he kissed her messily. The change in angle pushed him deeper inside her, bringing her right to the edge, and she wrapped her arms around him tightly.

“Quick, Fitz, I’m so close,” she moaned in his ear. “Flip me over so we can come together.”

Despite the fact it had been her own idea, she was shocked at his strength when she was on her back before she knew it, without him pulling out of her. Fitz tried desperately to kiss her, missing her mouth more often than not as he began thrusting rhythmically, his earlier admonitions about the noises she was making clearly forgotten as he groaned and grunted and gasped and swore with each stroke. He was chanting her name like a mantra, and she seemed to be moaning his over and over again as well. The tension inside her was ratcheting up at an alarming rate, and she didn’t know how much longer her body could bear it. She had never felt so wild and free and strangely powerful in all her life. It was like deep down inside she was a different person from who she’d always believed herself to be, from whom everyone had always believed her to be, and it seemed that only Fitz could access that person. Only he could bring out this sexy, passionate, ferocious goddess of a woman that was currently possessing her, just like only she could bring out this beast in him that grabbed her and threw her onto hotel beds and pushed her up against airplane walls, and that could flip her over in bed whilst staying inside her. Somewhere inside all his nervousness and awkward insecurity was this fierce, hot-blooded, confident lover whose lust for her made him forget all his hang-ups, and who could give her bone-shattering orgasms with just his hand. And right now, the way that he was pumping into her felt like the best thing Jemma had ever experienced in her life, it felt like she never wanted him to stop doing this. It felt like the two of them were always meant to be together this way. It felt… _right_.

A second later all such thoughts were blown right out of her mind as all boundaries between her and Fitz collapsed. Her second orgasm was not quite as intense as the first, but it lasted much longer, wave after wave of seemingly endless pleasure gently convulsing her body. She heard herself gasping out Fitz’s name and digging her nails into his back. At almost the same time, he shuddered violently, crying out in ecstasy, before he buried his face in her neck. She felt him panting and babbling incoherently against her skin and it was wonderful. As the spasms inside her began to ebb and her lungs struggled for breath, her exhausted body turned to formless jelly, the only sensation now being her cervical muscles pulsating pleasantly around his cock. She stroked her hands up his back and through his hair, content to just lay there and luxuriate in that feeling for a while. As Fitz’s breathing finally returned to some kind of pattern, he propped himself up on one arm, gazing down at her with such warmth and wonder that she couldn’t help laughing in sheer euphoria. He grinned broadly, and brushing her hair off her face with his other hand, he kissed her with such tenderness it almost made her cry. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, and he broke off the kiss to bury his face in her neck again, cradling the back of her head with one hand and slipping the other under her back to hug her affectionately.

“Fucking hell, Fitz!” she whispered in his ear. “We _really_ should have done that a long time ago!” Breathlessly chuckling against her shoulder, Fitz made as much of an attempt to nod his head as was possible, trapped as it was between her arms and her neck. “I mean, we’re really, really good at that!” she continued giddily. “Brilliant, even!”

Fitz pushed himself up again onto his hands as he grinned down at her. “Yeah, we are! That was fucking unbelievable!” he breathed. “Jemma, I swear, until tonight I honestly used to think sex was over-rated. I couldn’t see what all the fuss was about.”

She bit her lip in delight and nodded. “Me too,” she whispered. “Either that, or there was something wrong with me.”

He shook his head in amazement. “But now… _my god_! If that’s what sex feels like…I don’t understand why people aren’t talking about this _more_! I mean, why isn’t this the _only_ thing we talk about?!”

Jemma giggled. “I don’t think it’s normally this good. I think that was definitely above average. WAY above average. We’re obviously just really compatible.”

Something in her words caused his smile to die. His expression became suddenly serious, causing her heart rate to start climbing again in alarm. His gaze softened and his eyes took on an indefinable quality as they raked over her face as if he was searching for something. He licked his lips nervously and opened them as if he was about to say something.

“What is it?” she asked, placing her hands on his chest in panic that she’d said something wrong.

He swallowed and shook his head. “I…ah…I have to pull out now. That’s all. I’m getting soft and the condom’s going to come off.”

“Oh shit, yeah!” Jemma exclaimed, her hands going to his penis to feel for the bottom of the condom. She held it in place while he pulled out of her, before he climbed off the bed to dispose of the condom. She suddenly felt strangely lonely, and the vague thought flitted through her mind that he’d just withdrawn from her in more ways than one, but she couldn’t quite pin it down. All she knew was that she couldn’t bear this feeling and she wanted him close again. She pushed down the bedcovers beneath her, before pulling them back up over herself and then reached out her arms to him as he dropped the tied condom in her wastepaper basket. “Come back to bed now,” she implored him.

His smile returned then, and he immediately moved towards her. Getting into the bed beside her, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. They were cuddled together, yet somehow he still felt distant. Struggling to fight the growing anxiety that some huge change had just taken place between them that might mean she had lost him forever, Jemma lay her head on his chest, while he stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head. Neither of them said anything more, both retreating into silent and separate thoughts as their heavy bodies relaxed into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is a little later than I had promised, but I can't believe it's finally done! Believe it or not, this took me a month to write - partly because things were so hectic in my real life, and partly because I really wanted to get it absolutely right. I'm still not sure that I have, but it had gotten to the point where I just needed to post it and be done with it. It turns out it's actually really difficult to write a sex scene between two people who are deeply in love, which is really romantic and tender and passionate and loving - a scene where they're making love, basically - but all from the POV of someone who does not realise any of this, because she's so bloody deep in denial! It would have been much easier to write it from Fitz's POV, but for some reason it was really important to me that it was from Jemma's - and my god, she's hard work! I hope I've managed to convey at least a feeling of this.


	21. Home Improvements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of their night together, Fitz struggles with his feelings for Jemma. However, his apprehension about the impact their new arrangement will have on their friendship is soon forgotten as they both get caught up in their affair. The new problem becomes how to conduct a sexual relationship on the base without getting caught. While Fitz gets technologically creative, Jemma comes up with an idea that leaves him lost for words.

Fitz opened his eyes to a blur of light and a heavy weight pressing on his chest. As his vision came into focus, the blur became lots of little lights twinkling above his head. Was it Christmas? Where the hell was he? Why was there something lying on top of him? Had he fallen? He tilted his head to look down. In an instant it was all there, the images of last night scorching his brain, flooding heart-stopping realisation into every cell of his body. Soft porcelain skin with watercolour freckles beneath his hands, the delicate salty-sweet taste of her in his mouth, the cries she made that sent shock waves through his body, the warm, silky feel of her around his cock. _Jemma_. The weight he felt was her sleeping head resting peacefully against his chest, like she absolutely belonged there. But it wasn’t just that. It was like there was something heavy inside his chest too, a weight that was almost suffocating him. It hurt to remember. He had just had the most beautiful, erotic, passionate, romantic night of his life with his best friend and it had simultaneously been the best thing that had ever happened to him and the worse mistake he had ever made. Because he knew she didn’t feel the same way. For Jemma it had just been sex to relieve her frustrations. What the fuck had he done?

He was in love with her, absolutely, unequivocally, irreparably in love. He knew that now. He knew that he would never love anyone this way again. He wanted a future with her, he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, he wanted to be the only one for her the way he now understood that she was the only one for him. He wanted what that nice lady Dorothy had with her husband, even if it meant the pain of one of them eventually having to live without the other – at least they would have had a life of happiness together and children and grandchildren and a thousand memories of moments like this. But Jemma didn’t want any of that. He was just her best friend. Her best friend she wanted to have sex with, granted, but no more than that. So it would have to do. Much as he knew the sensible thing would be to walk away, he also knew that he’d never be able to do that. Especially not now that he knew what it was like to be with her in this way. Now she was in his veins, he was in thrall to her. There was no way he could resist her and he didn’t want to. A friend with benefits was what she wanted, and so that’s what he would be for her. He’d be anything she wanted him to be, god help him, he was powerless to do otherwise.

He raised his head to look at the clock on Jemma’s bedside locker. It was almost five am. Not long until people started getting up so he needed to go back to his room before he encountered anyone in the hall. Except Hunter. Fitz would probably meet him slinking out of Bobbi’s room next door. At least they could walk back together, since their rooms were beside each other, and if they met anyone else, they could pretend… He was stumped. He couldn’t think of one single earthly reason why he and Hunter should be wandering around the base at this time of the morning, so meeting Hunter really didn’t help.

With great difficulty, he extracted his arm from under Jemma’s prone body, and gently slid her head onto the pillow beneath her. She gave a little groan, but didn’t wake. Shaking his arm to try and get the feeling back into it, he searched for his clothes, pulling them on quickly before scribbling a note to Jemma, which he left beside her clock. As he was about to leave the room, he remembered the binder that was sitting on Jemma’s desk. If he carried it out with him now, he could edit the security footage to make it look like he did that at ten o’clock last night, instead of five o’clock in the morning. He should do that now, before anyone woke up. It occurred to him that Skye probably edited the footage of her and Trip leaving each other’s bedrooms on a regular basis, so he didn’t feel too bad about committing a grievous transgression of Shield security protocols. Although he couldn’t help thinking that there had to be a better way to go about conducting a secret affair than all this subterfuge.

There was no sign of Hunter, and as Fitz passed Bobbi’s room, he cringed when he remembered how loud he and Jemma had been last night. Especially Jemma, despite his best efforts. He had no doubt that if Hunter hadn’t already told Bobbi about them, she certainly knew now. He would have to think of some way of soundproofing Jemma’s room, and perhaps his own too. All it would take was someone walking past in the hall outside for them to be found out. They really needed to be more careful.

The living area was dark and quiet when he reached it. He made his way over to the security monitors. All the screens were empty, so thankfully it seemed like he was the only person out of bed at this time. It felt like an act of treachery, creeping about like this, tampering with the security tapes. He made sure to erase the footage of him doing that as well, after he rearranged his exit of Jemma’s bedroom. He was slightly worried that Skye might realise the footage had been edited – he was sure that she was much more skilled at covering up such interference. He’d love to know how she did it. Perhaps he’d get Jemma to ask her, since he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to know about Skye and Trip. Jemma had told Skye that _she_ had seen them together, she hadn’t mentioned that Fitz was there. He gave a wry smile to himself as he thought about all the secrets being kept on this base, and wondered how many people were sneaking out of illicit bedrooms on any given morning. Fitz had never been entirely sure if Shield’s anti-fraternisation rule didn’t cause more problems than it prevented. At the very least, all of these agents living on top of each other on this base, without families or relationships or social lives, was a recipe for at least one romantic catastrophe.

He made it back to his room without being seen and had just closed his door when he heard Hunter’s door opening beside him. The sibilance of voices whispering goodbye carried on the silence of the early morning. Hunter and Bobbi had slept in his room last night, not hers. Hunter was a good friend. Fitz made a mental note to buy him a beer as thanks for giving him and Jemma some privacy. And for the condom, although it turned out he didn’t need it. His heart sank however as he realised that Hunter was probably going to ask him how it went, and he was going to have to somehow try and sound super casual, as if his heart wasn’t breaking because he’d just had the most incredible night of his life with a girl who would never love him the way he did her. He sighed and lay down on top of his bed. At least it was only Hunter who knew about it. Bad decision-making was basically a way of life for Hunter, so he’d be sympathetic to Fitz’s plight. He knew Mack or Trip would just tell him that this was a terrible idea and he should put an end to it. As if it were that easy. He should never have agreed to this in the first place, but it was much too late now, he was already in too deep. And the truth was that the only reason that he had agreed to this was because he’d already had these feelings for Jemma. He would never have risked their friendship in this way otherwise. If he was honest, that was another thing that stung. The fact that Jemma was willing to take this risk suggested that maybe their friendship didn’t mean as much to her as he’d thought. He laughed at himself then.

“Which is it you want to be, Leo, her best friend or her boyfriend?” he whispered bitterly at the darkness. “Make your damn mind up!”

Clearly Skye and Trip had a very different relationship from him and Jemma if they were able to do this without it getting messy. One night with Jemma, and their relationship was already a minefield. He briefly toyed with the notion of finding some excuse to work in the garage today. He had no idea how he was going to get through a whole day in the lab working beside Jemma without wanting to kiss her or touch her constantly. At the very least, he wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off her, not with the memories of last night playing on a constant loop in his head like some kind of pornographic torture. But he also knew that avoiding her like that would be a shitty thing to do, and she would be incredibly hurt by it. So he was just going to have to suck it up and remember that he was still supposed to be her best friend by day, even if they were having sex at night. And at least he had that. He had the nights to look forward to, when she would be naked in his arms again, moaning and crying out his name. And that was more than he’d ever dreamed of having. So it was enough. Wasn’t it?

His phone beeping in the stillness of the dark room made him jump. It was a text from Jemma.

_Got your note. You should have woken me. You never got a proper goodbye. Now you’re just going to have to wait until tonight._

It was signed with a winky emoji and a kiss. Fitz groaned. Christ, this was painful and wonderful and tantalising all at the same time. She already wanted more sex. Why the hell did she choose to tell him this now, knowing that he had to somehow get through the day with _that_ thought in his head? Working in the lab with her was going to be absolutely maddening today. His phone beeped again.

_Btw, I can’t stop thinking about last night. It was amazing! I can’t believe you were nervous, silly boy – you only gave me the best sex of my life!_

For fuck’s sake! What the hell was happening?! Was this really his life? Had he wandered into someone else’s by mistake? Because that would explain a lot. Fitz looked at his watch and considered his options. If they skipped breakfast, there would be enough time for him to sneak back to her room now before they had to be in the lab. Fuck it. They could send one of the assistants out for pastries.

 

Over the next few days, Fitz had more sex than all the times before in his life put together. Over the next few weeks, he had more sex than he'd ever imagined was possible for any person to have. It was like he was living in one of his own fantasies. Sometimes it was like he was living in someone else’s fantasy, because god knows, his had never gotten _this_ crazy. He and Jemma were doing it _at least_ once a day, sometimes two or three times a day. At one point they had sex six times in a 24 hour period and couldn't do it again for two days, during which they were both having difficulty walking and had to restrain themselves from wincing every time either of them sat down. They could barely make eye contact because whenever they did they would both start giggling. The whole thing was insane, and he couldn't quite believe it was happening. Every single time they were alone together, even if it was just for a few moments in the supply closet, they were all over each other, mouths and hands everywhere on each other bodies. They were out of control, and he loved it – even if he _was_ half-hard for most of his working hours. He couldn't get enough of her. They’d already had sex dozens of times, but he still wanted her just as bad each time. And what was truly incredible was that _she wanted him_.

He couldn't explain it but he knew for certain that she did. It was in the way that she kissed him, the way that she liked to run her hands all over his body as he took his clothes off, the way she looked at him when he was taking _her_ clothes off, the way she sighed and moaned when he touched her. And it wasn't just that she liked sex – for some reason, he couldn’t help feeling that _she liked sex with him_. When she kissed him, when she kept eye contact with him while he was inside her, when she gripped him tight, practically screaming his name as she came, it made him feel wanted. Desired, even. She was so incredibly responsive to his touch it astounded him. The sight of her writhing in need or arching her back to press herself against him quite honestly made him feel like a god. Well, she was a goddess anyway, and he had figured out how to make her happy which felt pretty damn good. He had never been so thankful that he was such a quick study, or that he knew all Jemma's expressions and various tones of voice so well that he had been able to work out early on what she liked and what she didn't. She had incredibly sensitive nipples and it drove her wild when he played with them. She especially liked it when he sucked them, and if he fingered her at the same time, she always came very quickly. She loved it when he went down on her as well, which was something he had been quite nervous about since he never seemed to be very good at it when he was with Megan. However it didn’t take him long to figure out how to elicit all the right responses from Jemma. Although her clit got over-sensitized easily, so he always had to be very gentle when he was rubbing or licking it. She also loved it when he kissed and sucked her neck and he'd discovered by accident, whilst playfully trying to kiss every one of her freckles one night, that nothing seemed to turn her on more than having her back licked and kissed, the whole way down her spine from her neck to her bum. That had been an incredible night – she had moaned loudly the whole time, and thrust her hips against the mattress, before rolling over and begging him to fuck her. And she’d actually used those words – “fuck me, Fitz.” In his wildest fantasies, those words had fallen from her full, luscious lips, but he’d always felt ridiculous as he couldn’t ever imagine his uptight, prim and proper English partner speaking like that to anyone in real life, let alone him. But she did, he’d heard it, she’d actually said those words to him and it had nearly driven him out of his mind. This was an entirely new Jemma that he was discovering – in all the years he’d been her best friend, he’d never known what an incredibly sensual, sexual person she was and how much she loved to be touched. But what she loved most was when he was inside her - and so did he. God, did he love it. Making love to Jemma made him feel like he was invincible.

The situation wasn’t without its problems however. His main problem was that it was getting harder and harder restrain himself from telling her how much he loved her, either during or after sex. That was an issue that he had no idea how to address, a ticking time-bomb he had no clue how to diffuse. All he could do was hope it didn’t go off.

The other problems simply came down to the logistics of not getting caught, and those he could do something about. He had let it slip to a few members of the team that he and Jemma were working on ideas for a new weapon that could incapacitate powered people without harming them. This was how he explained the late nights the two of them were spending holed up in either of their rooms, while the rest of the team were hanging out together. The noise levels were still a problem as well, and Hunter had warned him that there was only so much longer he could keep turning the TV up in order to drown them out. As it was, Bobbi had already tried to make Hunter go for a hearing test. Fitz had regretted asking Hunter’s advice on the subject, however, as his answer had involved biting and gags and other mental images Fitz would prefer to have scoured out of his brain. As was his wont, he had turned to technology for a solution instead, and was very pleased with his results.

“I have a present for you,” he told Jemma, as he walked into her room one Saturday afternoon.

“Ooooh,” she replied, adopting a sultry tone as she propped herself up on the bed where she lay reading. “Is it… _big_?”

“Not _that_ kind of present, you minx,” he scolded playfully. “Not right now, anyway.” She pouted, and he grinned before producing his new device from behind his back. Jemma sat up in interest.

“What’s that? I didn’t know you were working on something new.”

“Well, I didn’t know if I was going to be able to do it or not, and I didn’t want to disappoint you if I couldn’t, so I kept it a surprise,” he replied. “But wait until you see this.” He put the device down on her desk beside her music system and pressed play on her iPod. The sound of Bach’s Cello Suites filled the room and Fitz turned it up to top volume. “Nah, Yo-Yo Ma’s not going to be impressive enough for this demonstration,” he shouted as Jemma winced at the noise. “I don’t even think Beethoven’s symphonies are going to cut it. Let me see,” he continued at the top of his voice, as he scrolled through her library. “If I can bloody find anything on here apart from classical music and folk singers...we really need something with drums and guitars for this. Arcade Fire perhaps, or maybe Of Monsters and Men? I remember you importing those from my library.” He spotted a guilty pleasure of Jemma’s then, something which usually only got played when she was drunk. “Ah, perfect! Am I still the only person who knows about your secret, but deep-seated love of AC/DC?”

As the opening chords of ‘Back in Black’ vibrated throughout the room, Jemma covered her ears. “Fitz, what the hell are you doing?” she shouted. “Turn that down! People will complain.”

Fitz shook his head. “No, they won’t.” He walked over to the door and opened it, gesturing for her to follow him out into the hall.

Jemma complied, staring at him in bewilderment as he closed the door behind them. A second later, she whipped her head round to stare at the door instead. “Nothing,” she whispered in astonishment. “I don’t hear anything. What happened to the music?”

Fitz threw the door open again, and the song was still blaring at them. He shut the door again and the noise died away instantly.

“Fitz, that’s amazing!” Jemma breathed in awe. “How did you do that?!”

“The device I made absorbs sound waves,” he explained proudly. “So it doesn’t matter how much noise is made inside the room, no-one will hear it outside.”

“That is brilliant,” she exclaimed excitedly. “But why were you keeping it…oh!” She stared at him in realization. “You made this for me? For us? To…?”

Fitz smiled as he nodded. Jemma opened the door and pulled him back into the room. Grabbing her remote control from her bedside locker, she turned the song off, and swung round to face Fitz, cupping his face and kissing him hard. “Fitz, you absolute genius! This is amazing!” she exclaimed delightedly as she released him. “No more biting pillows or swollen lips from you kissing me so hard to try and keep me quiet! Now we can make as much noise as we want without worrying about anyone hearing us.”

“Yep!” Fitz replied proudly.

She kissed him again, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Oh!” she exclaimed suddenly as she pulled back. “I just thought! This solves the problem of how to build the other thing as well! Oh my god, this is fantastic! Did you speak to Hunter about that, by the way?”

“I did,” Fitz replied. “And he’s more than happy to switch rooms with you. It will obviously suit him being next door to Bobbi as well.” He hesitated for a moment before continuing. “Are you absolutely sure about this though, Jemma?”

“Of course I’m sure,” she replied somewhat indignantly. “It’s the perfect solution, Fitz. You said yourself Skye was getting suspicious about the security footage, that she thought someone had tampered with it.”

“Yeah, but wouldn’t the easier solution be to just tell Skye? And then she can wipe the footage for us when she wipes Trip sneaking in and out of her room at night?”

Jemma sighed and stared at the ground. “I feel terrible about keeping this from Skye, I really do. Apart from you, she’s the best friend I have and I was so annoyed at her for not telling me about Trip. But I’m just not ready for her to know.”

Fitz shook his head in confusion. “Why not? If she’s doing the same thing with Trip…”

“I don’t think she’ll see it like that though,” Jemma replied. “She said something to me on the plane when we were coming back from Malta about you and I having such strict boundaries, and I don’t know…I just feel like she would see this differently, like she would make such a big deal about it. But it’s _not_ a big deal.”

“No, of course not,” Fitz studied his shoes, hoping she wouldn’t notice the way he flinched when she said that.

“You know, you and I get it,” Jemma continued, “but I don’t think she would, she’d think it was more than…Anyway, it doesn’t matter. The point is we shouldn’t be tampering with the security tapes in the first place, that’s actually a much more serious infringement than fraternization. Let’s face it, if everyone who is sleeping with someone else on this base is editing footage, then bloody Hydra could just waltz in here, and no-one would know!”

Fitz had to concede that was a fair point. “Okay, but you being next door if you switch rooms with Hunter will already make life a lot easier. We can just reposition the camera so that there’s a blind spot between our rooms.”

Jemma shook her head. “We live on a base full of world-class spies, Fitz. Someone’s going to notice if we change the angle of the camera in this corridor.”

“And you think no-one will notice if we knock a fucking big hole in the wall between our rooms?!” Fitz asked incredulously.

Jemma sighed impatiently. “I told you, Fitz, it’s not a hole, it’s a doorway. A secret doorway. The point being that no-one else will know it’s there.”

Sometimes Fitz couldn’t understand her, he really couldn’t. She was reluctant to tell Skye about them because it was ‘not a big deal’, but she had no compunction about creating a permanent entrance from his room to hers.

“First of all, Jemma, yes, the device I created will take care of the noise of the construction, sure,” he argued, “but we still haven’t figured out what to do with all the bricks we’re going to remove in the process of making this doorway, or how to bring all the tools and equipment I need to build this in here without anyone seeing.”

“Aha! But yes we have!” she declared, and Fitz groaned internally. Over the years he had come to hate Jemma’s triumphant little ‘Aha’, because it always indicated that she thought she had won the argument when all she was doing was ignoring his very reasonable objections. “It’s simple,” she continued. “Cloaking!”

Fitz folded his arms and jabbed his head forward as if he was having trouble hearing her. “Come again?”

“Cloaking!” she repeated, as that explained everything. “You bring the all the equipment over here on some kind of motorized cart, and put material over the top of it that can be cloaked. Then when we remove the bricks using a Mousehole laser – maybe you could make one in a rectangular shape - we load them onto the cart, cloak it again and dump the bricks in some dark, dusty corner of the basement. I mean, it’s a 1940s building, Fitz, no-one’s going to raise an eyebrow if they find a load of musty old bricks lying somewhere.”

“And what if someone bangs into the bloody cart while I’m navigating it here and wonders why the hell they whacked their shin on thin air?” Fitz asked in exasperation. “Apart from the fact that all of this elaborate clandestine construction work - like we’re in the Shawshank fucking Redemption or something - is taking a huge risk, you’re also overlooking the fact that secret doors are kind of Coulson’s thing, remember? He can spot them a mile off.”

“Coulson has literally never been in my room, Fitz!” Jemma snapped. “Or yours! There’s no reason to think he’d start paying us social calls now.”

“You never know, he might at some point have some reason to come to your room to talk to you about something and spot it,” Fitz argued. “Or someone else could. It’s just…I don’t know. It’s an absolutely fucking crazy idea, Jemma.”

“I don’t understand,” she responded testily, “why is it crazier than meddling with the security tapes every day? Yes, the construction will be a bit of a logistical conundrum, but won’t it make life much easier in the long run? I mean, all we’ll have to do is walk through a door in order to be together - no more sneaking around, trying not to get caught. We’ll have adjoining rooms, for god’s sake! What could be easier than that?!”

“And that’s my main point, Jemma,” Fitz cried in frustration. “You’re talking about an actual structural renovation here. Creating a door where at the moment there is a solid wall! Without permission! That is a whopping great bloody deal! I’m not even going to go into the trouble we could be in if we got caught. Or that fact that we’ll have to rebuild the wall if we ever move out of here. What about the fact that this doorway will essentially make our two rooms into a…a… fucking suite?! They will be connected, Jemma. Permanently, irreversibly…unless we engage in further construction to brick it up again.”

She frowned at him in utter bewilderment. She clearly had no idea what he was getting at. “Well, that’s the whole point, isn’t it?” she said uncertainly.

“And you’re sure you want to do that?” he asked, a bit more sharply than he had intended. “Isn’t that a bit of a big decision? To make our two bedrooms into a suite?! I mean…that’s kind of a commitment, Jemma.”

“Oh.” Her face paled suddenly, and she somehow became smaller in front of his eyes, shrinking into herself like he had deflated her. “I see. Yes, you’re quite right. No, I don’t know what I was thinking there. It was a silly idea, you’re right, it was crazy. Please forget I said anything.” Her voice was shaking like it always did when she was upset, but for the life of him he couldn’t understand why. It almost seemed like she was hurt by him saying that creating a door between their rooms was a commitment, but why would she be? After all, she was the one who said them sleeping together was 'not a big deal.'

Jemma walked across the room away from him, and tapped the sound absorber on his desk. “This really is a very clever device, Fitz,” she said, in shakily cheerful tone. She was trying to change the subject, but he knew by her voice and the way she refused to look at him that she was close to tears.

“Jemma,” he said softly.

She ignored him. “You know I was thinking that we really should try and come up with some ideas for a weapon to incapacitate powered people,” she said with false brightness, blinking too rapidly. “Coulson’s bound to ask us what we’ve come up with and it’s going to look very strange if we have absolutely nothing to tell him.”

“Jemma,” he said again, moving towards her. She lowered her head, shrinking away from him and he knew it for certain now. He had no idea how, but he had hurt her. He caught her by the waist, and slid his hand under her chin, lifting it to look up at him. “I’m not saying I don’t want to build the doorway,” he said gently. “It’s not a silly idea, it does make sense, but I’m just saying that it might be one of these ideas that you get really excited about and don’t really think it through. What if this does turn out to be a mistake, and things are terrible between us and we have this door now instead of a wall?”

Her face creased as if she was in pain. “Why would things be terrible between us?”

Fitz sighed and looked away. He loved her with all his heart, but sometimes it made him despair how little she understood how emotions or relationships, or even human beings, worked.

Jemma grabbed his face with both her hands, turning it back to look at her. “Fitz, things will never be terrible between us,” she said, almost desperately. “No matter what, we’ll always be friends. You’re still my best friend in the world, and you always will be.”

There was something that was on the tip of his tongue to say, but he swallowed it and nodded. As long as she just wanted to be best friends with benefits, then he would never complicate matters by saying _that_.

“I have thought the doorway through,” she continued. “I’ve thought about it a lot, and I honestly think this is the best option for us. I really can’t see any problems with it, but it will make life so much easier. Mainly because it will mean that there will be so much less risk of us getting caught together. I’m just really scared, Fitz, we’re taking so many chances right now and if we get caught I don’t know what will happen. We could get fired. Or worse!”

He raised an eyebrow at that. “Worse? Jemma, what exactly do you think he could do us that’s worse than getting fired?”

“ _We could get separated, Fitz!_ ” she cried. “He could send one of us away somewhere. That’s how Shield used to deal with fraternization. One of the agents involved would get transferred somewhere else.”

Despite himself, he was actually touched by her fear of being separated from him. “Where could he send us, Jemma? There only is this base now. That’s all Shield is, there is nowhere else.”

She scoffed. “You know Coulson as well as I do, Fitz, everything’s on a need-to-know basis. He could have bases all over the bloody place, and not tell us. And even if he doesn’t, you know he could still find somewhere he could put one of us to good use.”

Fitz shook his head. “He needs us here, Jemma. Both of us. Coulson knows that we work better together. Besides, he knows about Bobbi and Hunter, and he hasn’t sent either of them anywhere.”

“He said himself he can’t because Hunter’s not technically a Shield agent,” she argued. “He’s a private contractor that Shield are paying, so technically he and Bobbi aren’t breaking the rules. But you and I have been in Shield for almost half our lives now, he’s going to hold us to a different standard.”

Fitz exhaled as he considered this. He had no idea if she was right or not. He couldn’t really see Coulson sending one of them away somewhere, but at the same time, he wasn’t willing to take the chance. “Maybe you’re right,” he conceded. “Maybe this doorway is the best option. But I just want to make sure you’ve really thought about all the ramifications of it, Jemma.”

“I have,” she replied confidently. “And I know how you can make it so that even Coulson couldn’t spot it.”

“Yeah, how’s that?” he asked.

“A hologram,” she replied simply. Fitz stared at her in astonishment. “You don’t need to build a door at all,” she continued. “Just make the doorway, and project a holographic wall onto the space. Your holographs are flawless, Fitz, they look so real, nobody would ever know it wasn’t, unless they tried to lean against the wall, and there’s no reason for anyone to ever do that. And you don’t even need the projector on all the time, just when somebody comes into the room for any reason. And people always knock, so there’s time to turn on the projector and those can be easily hidden.”

Fitz was speechless. His mouth hung uselessly open for a moment whilst his brain struggled to frame a response. “So, let me get this straight,” he began cautiously, “you’re not talking about making our rooms adjoining at all, you’re actually talking about making them the one room?!”

Jemma blinked as if this thought had actually just occurred to her. “Well, no, not really,” she replied hesitantly. “I mean it would still just be a doorway…”

“An archway. An entrance. That’s what you’re talking about,” Fitz responded. “No door at all, not even a holographic wall unless someone comes in, just an opening that we can walk through from one room into the other. That makes it more or less one room, Jemma! We’ll be living in one room. Together. I mean…you’ll have no privacy from me.”

Jemma snorted. “Why would I need privacy from you, you’ve already seen everything?! Wait…you mean…do you…need privacy from me?”

 _I will when you break my heart,_ he thought. He had no idea how to respond to this situation. He had forgotten how Jemma’s need to apply logic to every circumstance could lead to her being so absurdly rational as to defy all reason and common sense sometimes. She wanted this casual sex arrangement, but she also wanted them to stay friends, and in her mind the way to achieve that was to demolish all physical and emotional boundaries between them. His ‘best friend with benefits’ was essentially asking him to move in with her, for the purposes of convenient sex, but they still couldn’t call it a relationship. The worst thing was her total lack of comprehension of what it was she was asking. This was the kind of thing that had driven away practically every guy who had ever been interested in her – well, not _this_ exactly. As far as he was aware, she had never asked any of her previous lovers to carry out a secret, and possibly illegal, building project in an underground government facility, just so no-one would know she was sleeping with them. This was a whole new level of Jemma Simmons’ relationship logic. Why was he, of all people, cursed to love this absolutely exasperating woman so completely and hopelessly?

He rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily, as he considered how to handle this. Despite the eccentricity of her thinking, he had sensed the vulnerability behind her question, so he would need to tread carefully. “Of course I don’t need privacy from you,” he replied. “But you know…I’m a boy and, well…boys are gross really. Our feet stink and we snore and we leave our underpants lying on the floor, and we smell absolutely foul when we’re hungover. And your room is always so nice and neat and smells so fragrant, and you’ve got these pretty lights now…I just don’t think you’re going to like having this big gap in the wall between our rooms. I’m just worried that you’re going to get really pissed off with me. That’s all.”

“Oh, Fitz!” she exclaimed fondly, flinging his arms around her neck. “You think I don’t know any of that? I’ve been your best friend for over a decade, we shared an apartment for years, for god’s sake! I’m used to your smells and your mess!” She kissed him then, and he briefly wondered whether Skye ever casually snogged Trip during the day like he was her boyfriend, and whether she’d ever suggested moving into the room beside him and knocking the bloody wall down. He imagined not. It seemed that only he and Jemma could ever get into a crazy situation like this. And despite all his very sensible objections to her plan, he knew he was going to cave – not just because he couldn’t refuse her anything, but because deep down inside, he wanted this. The idea of sharing a room with Jemma was undeniably appealing to him, so much so he couldn’t bring himself to say no. Even if it was going to end in disaster the minute Jemma realized that Fitz wasn’t what she wanted. Right now, he didn’t care about that. He only cared about the way her tongue felt inside his mouth.

“Fitz,” she whispered against his lips. “I think we should really try out that new sound absorbing device of yours, shouldn’t we? I mean really put it to the test.”

“Mmmm hmmm,” he concurred. “And for the record, it’s called the Moan Muffler.” Jemma sniggered, and he grinned in return, taking the opportunity to kiss her neck while she was laughing. As he began to pop open the buttons on her blouse, she pulled him onto the bed, her laughter turning to sighs and moans as he worked his way down her stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case anyone finds it odd, I made the decision to have Fitz refer to himself as 'Leo' when he talks to himself, because it is actually canon that he does that - at least he did it in Season 1, anyway! It also makes sense to me that he would call himself Leo when he's berating himself, just like his mother scolding him as a child perhaps. It's my headcanon that's why Jemma calls him Leo when she's annoyed with him too!


	22. Words With Friends Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jemma has three different conversations - one with Skye, one with Trip and one with Fitz. She receives some insight into Skye and Trip's relationship, which illuminates some things for her about her own arrangement with Fitz. She also discovers that Skye has a lead in the hunt for Ward's brother, and that Trip is very concerned about Skye's involvement in the case. Finally, Fitz has a request which throws Jemma completely for a loop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I originally had a plan for this chapter, which was supposed to be divided between Jemma and Fitz's POVs, and included some conversations Fitz had with other people as well. But when I started to write, it turned into an absolutely mammoth chapter - so I've once again had to divide it into two, and so Fitz's POV will be covered in the next chapter. As it is, this chapter is the longest one yet. There is also a development in this chapter which is probably surprising in light of the most recent episode of AoS (3x09). However, I actually started plotting and writing this fic during the summer hiatus, and I decided to include a nod to a popular fan theory I heard around that time. Last week's episode put paid to that theory - but I decided to keep it in, just because it's fun, and it allows me to include another important character who has so far been missing from this fic. I'll say more about this in the notes at the end of the chapter.

“Jemma! Hey, wait up!” Skye’s voice called from behind her as she walked down the hall towards the lab. Jemma stopped and turned.

“Oh hi, Skye,” she greeted her friend. “Is everything okay?”

“I should be asking you that,” Skye replied, bumping her shoulder as she caught up to her. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages. I guess that new weapon against powered people has really got you and Fitz working around the clock, huh?”

Jemma coloured, and shifted uncomfortably as she tucked her hair behind her ear. She had two sources of guilt working against her in this situation. First of all, she felt bad that she had been neglecting Skye because she’d been spending every free moment over the past month having _absolutely fantastic_ sex with Fitz. Secondly she felt even worse about the fact that Skye didn’t know this. Jemma had been considering whether to confide in her about it, partly because she was finding the deception so difficult to live with, but also because she had been feeling more and more like she needed to talk to _someone_ about it. While things had been going wonderfully well between her and Fitz – _unbelievably well, in fact_ \- it was also causing the boundaries between them to become much more blurred than Jemma was comfortable with. Since their first night together, she had been struggling with a growing confusion about their relationship and it was only getting worse. It was probably just because the sex was so amazing, but she was worried that she was actually starting to develop feelings for her best friend.

For a start, she always wanted to be with him recently and she missed him when he wasn’t there. She supposed that had always been the case really, she had never much liked being without Fitz, but now that feeling was stronger than ever, and there was a physical aspect to it that wasn’t there before. It was like her body actually craved him when they were apart for too long. What was worse was that whenever she was with him, she just wanted to touch him all the time. She found it really difficult to keep her hands to herself when they were in the lab or with the rest of the team, which was unprofessional as well as indiscreet. She was constantly making excuses why they needed to be alone together, and there were times when she didn’t even want to have sex, but just cuddle with him in bed. She also starting to have fantasies that she _really_ shouldn’t be having – not of a sexual nature this time, but things that she would be absolutely mortified about him knowing. Like what kind of engagement ring he might get her. Or what their house might look like, and whether they’d live in Yorkshire near her parents or in Scotland near his mum. Or what kind of wedding dress she might wear, and whether or not he’d wear a kilt. She even sometimes found herself thinking of names for their kids.

It was so silly and childish and it filled her with shame to be thinking about such things. She had never had these kinds of thoughts about anyone before, and she had no idea why she was doing this now. Perhaps it was her ‘biological clock’ so to speak – that would certainly explain this insatiable need to jump his bones every time she saw him. Although there was also the fact that initiating sex was a good way to be close to him without doing or saying anything embarrassing that might make him uncomfortable. He had been so reticent about this agreement in the first place, and then again about the idea for the doorway between their rooms and had really only agreed to both because she’d been so bloody insistent. It made her cringe to think how she had basically railroaded him into both. She wasn’t even sure why she’d done that. She suspected that he was worried that this agreement of theirs had gone too far, and she didn’t blame him – her behaviour had been somewhat out of control. There were times that their no-strings-attached arrangement felt more like some kind of heady, whirlwind affair, and she was pretty sure that it was not what Fitz had signed up for. He could be stubborn and grumpy, but Jemma also knew that he had the kindest heart out of anyone she’d ever met, and he didn’t like to say no to her requests. She was terrified to talk to him about it, partly because she wasn’t yet entirely sure how she felt, but also because she was afraid that he’d tell her that he didn’t actually want any of this. But she did wish she could talk it through with Skye, even if just to ask about her and Trip’s arrangement and whether the boundaries ever got blurred there, or if Skye ever had these kinds of thoughts.

Thinking about something was one thing however, saying it out loud was another thing entirely. To say something out loud to someone else was to make it real, was to have it exist outside yourself, and she was not yet ready to discuss her feelings for Fitz with anyone. Nor was she ready to admit that she had possibly made an absolute cock-up of the best friendship she’d ever had. Once she admitted that then she’d have to deal with it, and she had no idea where to begin. So although she absolutely hated lying to Skye, she was going to have to do it now. She recalled what May had told her about using an aspect of the truth in order to successfully maintain a cover.

“I know, Skye,” she began, “I’m sorry I haven’t been around much, but to be perfectly honest, the reason that we’ve been spending so much time on this is because we haven’t really come up with anything satisfactory yet, and we didn’t want to tell anybody. I mean, we’ve been talking about some kind of compound that could possibly paralyse powered people…”

“Wait, isn’t that what dendrotoxin does?” Skye interrupted.

“Yes, but we’ve seen that dendrotoxin doesn’t work effectively on some powered people. And increasing the dosage also increases the risk of harming them. No, we’re thinking more along the lines of maybe _freezing_ enhanced people – not literally, perhaps, but in some way or other. Fitz has this idea about perhaps encasing them in some kind of substance that could contain them for a certain amount of time. Something like amber.” Jemma shook her head and gave a fond little chuckle. “I think he’s been watching too much _Fringe_.”

“Oh, I love _Fringe_!” Skye declared. “I didn’t know you guys watched that.”

“How have you never heard us talking about it?!” Jemma replied in astonishment. “It’s only one of our favourite shows! One of our favourite American shows, anyway.” She sighed. “Fitz loves Walter, but my favourite thing is the relationship between Peter and Olivia. Such an amazing love story. It’s so beautiful, but it’s just so unfair how they keep getting separated when all they want to do is be together!”

“I actually loved Fauxlivia,” Skye replied. “She was my favourite character.”

“Ugh, no, Skye, she was the worst!” Jemma said in disgust. “Tricking Peter into a relationship like that…” She noticed the amused expression on Skye’s face and shook herself out of her reverie. “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

“A little,” Skye said with a grin. “Although I really do like Fauxlivia. She’s badass and awesome.”

“And Olivia’s not?” Jemma said a little heatedly.

Skye shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s a little uptight and repressed for my taste. I just always wished she’d be a little more spontaneous and expressive, follow her heart a little more, the way Fauxlivia did. I think she would have gotten together with Peter a lot sooner if she had. Although I kinda liked her and Lincoln, to be honest…”

Jemma was positively seething. This was clearly not a good subject of conversation with Skye, they would never see eye to eye on it. “Well, it’s clear to me that you really didn’t get that show at all,” she sniffed.

Skye sniggered. “Wow, Jemma! Turns out you’re pretty badass yourself when someone trashes Olivia Dunham! Remind me never to watch _Fringe_ with you!”

“No, I don’t think that would be a good idea,” Jemma replied archly. “Your frankly absurd opinions on television shows aside, I actually really like you and I would not want us to fall out.”

Skye laughed, and Jemma gave a wry grin. “Anyway, that’s where Fitz got his idea,” she continued, “he wants to make a weapon that would encase powered people in something like amber, which can then be removed somehow when they’re safely contained. To be honest, I think Fitz has too much faith in my powers as a biochemist with ideas like that,” she said ruefully.

“Only because he knows how brilliant you are,” Skye said warmly. “I for one have every faith that you’ll figure it out.”

“Oh, thank you, Skye, that’s so very sweet of you to say,” Jemma replied with a blush. “And like I said, I am sorry that I haven’t been much of a friend recently. Although, I was thinking that maybe you’d appreciate having more time to spend with Trip,” she added, as she nudged Skye and gave her a knowing smile. She had mostly brought Trip up to alleviate her guilt by pretending she was doing Skye a favour when she had neglected her, but she was also curious about their relationship.

“Trip?” Skye replied blankly. “Oh, no, Jemma,” she said, shaking her head with a wry smile, “I’ve already told you, it’s not like that with us.”

Jemma hesitated for a moment, wringing her hands. Skye raised an inquisitive eyebrow at her. “What is it like…exactly?” Jemma eventually asked, trying to sound casual. Skye looked a little bit taken aback by her question. “I mean,” Jemma continued with a nonchalant shrug, “how much time do you spend together? For example. Let’s say.”

“I mean, we’re together almost every day,” Skye replied warily, as if she wasn’t sure of the nature of Jemma’s inquiry. “Training, missions, briefings and debriefings, we hang out in the evening…”

“Yes, but how often do you…you know…get _intimate_?” Jemma pressed.

Skye snorted. “You mean get laid?” Jemma nodded, a little shamefaced to be interrogating her friend about such personal things. Skye shrugged. “I don’t know, Jemma…”

“How many times a week…on average…would you say?” Jemma asked.

Skye laughed outright at that. “How many times a week?! Oh my god, Jemma, you’re really not getting this at all, are you? Trip’s not my boyfriend! We’re just good buddies who happen to have sex once in a while.”

“Once in a while?” Jemma’s heart sank. Her suspicions that she and Fitz had gone way past the parameters of friends with benefits were confirmed. “How long is a _while_ exactly?”

“I don’t know,” Skye replied, sounding a little exasperated. “It depends. Now and then. You know. It could be a couple of times in one week, and then maybe not again for a few weeks, and then again maybe once the week after. It mostly happens after missions. That’s how it started actually. A few months ago, we came back from a mission late one night, had a few beers together and started talking about how…you know…it gets a little… _lonely_ …on this base sometimes, and then we decided to do something about it. That’s all. I mean, I could probably count the amount of times it’s happened on my fingers. Both hands, though,” she said with a smirk.

“Oh.” Jemma was utterly dismayed. “I see.”

“Jemma, what’s the matter?” Skye asked with sudden concern. “Oh god!” she exclaimed in horror. “You’re not…you’re not still into him, are you?”

“Oh no! No, no, Skye, I’m not, don’t worry about that,” Jemma reassured her quickly. “I was just curious, I just… I don’t know. I suppose I just wondered what a relationship on this base would look like, that’s all.”

“Pfffftttt, don’t ask me,” Skye responded. “Better talk to Bobbi about that. Although, I don’t know that she and Hunter are the best example of that either, to be honest!” She laughed and then tilted her head in curiosity as she watched Jemma’s face. “Why do you want to know about that? Is there someone on the base you’re interested in?”

“Me?! No, not at all, no, absolutely not!” Jemma squeaked. “I don’t have the time for that kind of thing. Not at all. I’m just wondering from… a medical point of view, that’s all.”

Skye raised an eyebrow. “A medical point of view?”

“Well, yes,” Jemma replied. “You know, if people are… _fraternising_ …then as Chief Medical Officer, I need to be concerned about that. You know, whether they’re being safe and so on. And as it’s not supposed to happen, I can’t really talk to people about it openly, even though malfeasance is not my business, the health of the agents on this base is. So I’m just trying to get information about what goes on, that’s all.”

“Oh, okay. I see.” Skye appeared to be convinced by that, and Jemma was very pleased with herself for coming up with such a valid excuse so quickly. “Anyway, as fun as this particular conversation was for me,” Skye continued in a sardonic tone, “I didn’t actually come to see you to talk about my sex life. Or to discuss _Fringe_. I actually wanted to tell you that I think I finally have a lead on Thomas Ward.”

“Really?! I thought we’d all but given up on finding him?” Jemma replied.

“Well, as I was saying to you before, I couldn’t find any trace of him on the internet because he ran away from home when he was sixteen, and no-one’s seen him since,” Skye said. Jemma felt horribly guilty that this sounded only vaguely familiar to her. “I mean, he just completely disappears off the face of the planet after that,” Skye continued. “And he didn’t just run away, he also absconded with a large sum of money he stole from his parents. I hacked into the police reports that were filed after his disappearance. They had a few leads but none of them went anywhere and eventually the case was closed. Then I had a brainwave,” she continued excitedly. “Ward’s family are really wealthy and highly respected and no-one knew about the abuse that went on, so the police treated the case like Thomas was into something he needed money for, like drugs or gambling or whatever. But that doesn’t fit with everything I’ve discovered about Thomas. He was a straight A student, he loved school and he said in his high school yearbook that he really wanted to be a doctor. I mean, the kid was being abused by his parents and two older brothers, it was no wonder he wanted to get away from there. So I figured, what if he took the money to get himself through college and med school, just like he always wanted?”

Jemma was impressed, not just at Skye’s analytical thinking and deduction work, but also at the empathy she displayed towards Thomas and his plight. These were the qualities that made Skye an exceptional agent. She felt very proud of her friend in this moment, and then was immediately ashamed that she hadn’t been doing more to help her with this case. After all, this _had_ been hers and Fitz’s case as well. They had actually gone undercover for the first time, and helped to bring Storch in, but they’d been so distracted by each other over the last few weeks, that they had almost forgotten about the fact that Ward was still out there with Storch’s mind-reading device.

“So I looked into some of the reported sightings of Thomas that the police investigated,” Skye went on. “They were all declared dead ends, but I hacked into high school records in all of these places, to see if any new students started around the time that Thomas Ward disappeared, and I got a hit. A student called Lincoln Campbell arrived at a school in Connecticut just a few weeks after Thomas Ward ran away from his home in Massachusetts. He was supposedly an emancipated minor who lived in his own apartment, but the thing is that I couldn’t find any trace of this ‘Lincoln Campbell’ or his parents anywhere before he showed up at that school. From then on, I was able to track him – he went to college and then on to med school and he’s now a doctor, just like Thomas Ward always wanted to be. Pretty impressive, really.” She smiled in admiration, and Jemma got the feeling Skye felt a kind of connection with this long-lost brother of Ward’s. After all, he had run away to escape a life he hated, given himself a new name, and worked hard developing a skill he was passionate about, with a view to using it to help people – all things he had in common with Skye.

“And get this,” Skye continued, "Whilst investigating the Ward family history, I discovered that ‘Lincoln’ was Ward’s grandmother’s maiden name, and ‘Campbell’ was _her_ mother’s maiden name. I’d say that’s a little too much of a coincidence, wouldn’t you? Ward was very fond of his grandmother, I’m guessing Thomas probably was too.”

Jemma stared at her in awe. “Skye, that’s absolutely brilliant!” she exclaimed. Then she frowned as a thought occurred to her. “The only thing is, it’s been weeks since Ward got away with the circlets. Wouldn’t he have already used them on Thomas – or Lincoln – by now?”

Skye shook her head. “See this is the good part. It turns out that Dr Campbell hasn’t stayed at any hospital for more than a year – he keeps moving around, almost like someone who’s running from something. I hacked into the security footage both at the hospital in Chicago where Lincoln works at the minute, and at the apartment where he lives. I used facial recognition software, but I didn’t get any hits for a match to Ward, so I don’t think he’s been to either. I don’t think Ward knows where Lincoln is. I’m not even sure if he knows his name is Lincoln now. Ward has many skills, but hacking isn’t one of them, and I don’t think he’d be able to find his brother without it.”

Jemma frowned. “So how do you suppose he’s planning to find him then?”

Skye shrugged. “The same way I did, except he probably had to find someone else to do it. It took me this long, and I am _really_ good, so I don’t think Ward will have found him yet. But he could do soon, which is why we need to move fast. I’m going to pay Lincoln Campbell a visit today, but the thing is, I need to make sure that he really is Ward’s brother. I’m pretty sure that he’s not going to admit to being somebody he’s been trying to get away from for so long. If that’s the case, can we run a DNA test or something to prove it?”

Jemma nodded. “We still have some blood samples of Ward’s on file, I’ll be able to look for a DNA match using those.”

“Okay, but how do I get Lincoln’s DNA without him knowing?” Skye asked. “You said that Storch got Quinn’s off a glass in that video?”

“Yes, if you get him to drink something, the saliva he leaves on the container can be tested for DNA,” Jemma explained, “but you’ll need to bring the whole cup or glass back here in a sealed plastic bag, so that I can properly lift the sample. It might be easier to get some hair off a jacket or comb or something, but the hairs really need to still have the root attached for the best chance of getting a proper DNA sample. The other alternatives are blood or sperm samples.”

Skye arched an eyebrow. “Yeah, I don’t think I’m going to be bringing back a sperm sample, Jemma,” she replied drily. “Although…” - she inclined her head as though she were mulling it over – “he _is_ pretty hot, so you never know.”

“ _Skye!!_ ” Jemma cried in a mock-scandalised tone, swatting her friend playfully. As Skye laughed, Jemma noticed Trip behind her, walking down the corridor towards them. She tensed and nudged Skye, who turned round to face him. Despite the fact that Skye had said that there was nothing between her and Trip except casual sex, Jemma couldn’t help feeling uncomfortable that Trip might have heard her joking about having sex with another guy she found attractive. If he did hear, either it didn’t bother him, or he just didn’t show it. He approached them with his usual wide smile.

"Ready to go?” he asked Skye. “The quinjet’s all fired up.”

“Yeah, just give me a minute,” she replied. “I just need to get my bag.”

“Your bag?” Trip asked. “I thought this was just about checking the guy out, getting a DNA sample and then coming back here tonight for Jemma to test it? I thought we wanted to make sure this guy is Ward’s brother first, before we send in a team to stake him out and wait for Ward to show up?”

“Yeah, you’re going fly back with the DNA sample tonight,” Skye responded. “But somebody needs to stay there to see in case Ward arrives.”

“What?!!” Jemma exclaimed in horror. The idea of Ward getting Skye on her own sent a shudder through her.

“Are you crazy?!” Trip was incredulous. “Skye, you can’t take Ward out on your own!”

“Don’t worry,” she assured him. “May’s coming as well. It’s personal for her, she wants to get both Ward _and_ this device that Storch used on her safely locked up. She’s going to keep an eye out for Ward. Meanwhile, I’m going to spend a few days trying to establish a rapport with Lincoln – I think that our shared experience of betrayal by Ward could possibly get him to open up to me, so I can gain his trust. This whole operation will have more chance of success if we have Lincoln’s co-operation.”

The thought that May was going along made Jemma feel a little better, but it appeared that Trip still wasn’t convinced.

“And you think he’s going to help us capture his own brother?” he asked sceptically.

Skye looked him squarely in the eyes. “Yes, I do,” she replied. “Ward abused him, Trip. He nearly killed him. He threw him down a well, and left him there, terrified and dying. Why do you think he ran away? Why do you think he doesn’t want to be found? And don’t forget, we’re going to be protecting him from his brother, who wants to use a mind-reading device on him.”

“Skye, you don’t even know this guy, how do you know you can trust him?” Trip asked. “He is a Ward, after all.”

“He’s a doctor, Trip. He saves lives, he helps people. He got away from that family, and worked hard to make a life for himself. He’s not a power-hungry senator or a duplicitous, sociopathic spy. I think I can handle him.”

Trip didn’t respond, although he looked as though he wanted to say something. Jemma was suddenly uncomfortably aware of the crackling tension in the narrow corridor, and found herself wondering if Trip was quite as casual about their arrangement as Skye seemed to be. She remembered how he had lost his cool with Ward in the hangar, after Ward had started taunting Skye about their romantic past. Then again, his protectiveness could simply be that of one friend looking out for another. After all, Fitz had always been very protective of her.

“Anyway, I’m going to get my bag,” Skye said, as she pushed past Trip. “I’ll meet you and May at the quinjet in five minutes. Jemma, I’ll probably see you in a few days, okay?” Skye said as she gave her a quick hug. “And don’t worry, I have every faith that you and Fitz will figure out a solution to your problem.”

Jemma visibly flinched. “What do you mean?” she replied. She knew her response was a little too defensive and quick, but she couldn’t help herself. “What problem? _Did he say something?!_ ”

Skye looked at her in confusion. “To… the… incapacitating powered people problem?”

“Oh, that! Yes, right!” Jemma exclaimed in relief. She nodded. “I have no doubt we will. Eventually. Hopefully.” She shrugged.

“Okay.” Skye still looked confused. “So anyway…call me tomorrow after you run the DNA test, and I’ll see you later.”

“Right you are. Goodbye, Skye,” Jemma answered sheepishly. Skye started to walk away from them, down the corridor. “Oh, Skye?” Jemma called after her. Skye turned to face her. “Just…do take care, okay?” Jemma said. “Remember…this is Ward we’re talking about.”

Skye smiled back at her. “Don’t worry, Jemma. I’ll be fine. Believe me when I say that I’m never going to let him get to me again.”

She walked off, and Jemma turned to Trip. He was watching Skye walk away, a pensive expression on his face. “She’ll be fine,” she ventured, in an attempt to reassure him. “She can handle herself, and I think it’s probably the right move, getting Lincoln on side. And if anyone can connect with him, it’s Skye. She can relate to what he’s been through.”

“Yeah, the problem is that she related to what Ward had been through as well,” Trip muttered darkly. He shook himself slightly and squeezed Jemma’s shoulder in gratitude as he gave her a weak smile. “I’ll catch you later, Jemma,” he said as he walked off.

“Okay, Trip, you take care too,” she called after him.

He smiled back at her over his shoulder, but Jemma noticed that there was a sadness about his eyes that seemed oddly familiar. With a jolt she realised that it reminded her of Fitz. It occurred to her that he’d had a similar look in his eyes recently and that thought gnawed at her stomach. _Why was Fitz sad?_

 

At dinner that evening, Coulson informed Jemma that he'd been in touch with Skye and her first contact with Lincoln Campbell had been a success. Apparently Skye had met Lincoln at the hospital where he worked. She had introduced herself and told him that they were searching for a fugitive named Grant Ward, and had reason to believe that he'd been following Lincoln. She had asked if he had any idea why Ward would be interested in him. At first, Lincoln had apparently denied knowing him, but he had been very cagey, and Skye was pretty sure she had her man. So she took him for a coffee and told him all about Ward's betrayal of the team, and even about her relationship with Ward. Eventually Lincoln had admitted to her that Ward was his brother. Coulson had ordered her to send back a DNA sample anyway, just to make absolutely certain, so Trip was on his way back with Lincoln's Starbuck's cup that Skye had snagged while he wasn't looking. After she’d finished her meal, Jemma made her way to the lab to set up the equipment for the DNA test and await Trip's return.

Trip was uncharacteristically subdued when he arrived with the cup in a poly bag. "Present for you," he said, waving it at her.

"Why Trip, you shouldn't have," Jemma said in mock-gratitude, as he passed it to her. "Just what I always wanted too!"

"Yeah, all the ladies seem to love Ward spit," Trip muttered darkly.

"Eww!" Jemma repressed a shudder. "Perish the thought! You do know I was joking, right?"

Trip chuckled in spite of himself, and shrugged. "Yeah, I know. Don't mind me, Jemma, I'm just a little on edge. I mean, Ward out there with that thing - I just want to catch him, you know? And no matter what she says, I don't like leaving Skye hanging out in Chicago with the long-lost brother Ward's trying to hunt down - it puts her right in his line of fire."

"Oh, but May's there, isn't she?" Jemma asked. "I mean, there's nothing to worry about, Trip, May will be watching them like a hawk, she won't let Ward get anywhere near Skye again."

"And that is the only reason I obeyed orders and came back," Trip sighed. "But I don't know about this Lincoln guy. May and I kept an eye on him and Skye during their coffee date - from a distance, of course - and I don't know...he seems a little too smooth for my liking. I don't care if he ran away from his family, he's still a Ward and I wouldn't trust any of them as far as I could throw them. But Skye refuses to hear that. I think she's over-identifying with this guy, she's a little too attached, and that worries me."

Jemma watched his face carefully, noting his use of the word 'date' when he talked about Skye's meeting with Lincoln. She had no doubt he was genuinely concerned about her safety, but she couldn't help feeling that it was coming from a place of personal, rather than professional, feeling. And it made her incredibly sad. Skye was so blasé about her hook-ups with Trip, but it was clear that they meant so much more to him. The awful thing was that Jemma had no idea if she felt more heart-broken for Trip, or for herself. Because she felt like she was starting to understand what it was to have feelings for someone who only saw you as a friend - albeit a friend with benefits. She swallowed the boulder of pain currently lodged in her throat, and put on her best reassuring doctor smile.

"Trip, you know as well as I do, that Skye gets results when she forms a bond with a subject and gains their trust. It's how she operates, it's what makes her a great Shield agent - she connects with people and they open up to her. Lincoln Campbell is no different. The object here is to apprehend Ward, after all, and Skye has already beaten him to his brother. All we have to do now is wait for him to show up. I'll get the results of this test to Coulson tonight and I bet he'll send you back out there tomorrow with a team to give Skye back-up. There's no need to worry, everything will be fine, you'll see."

Trip gave her a genuine smile then. "Ever the optimist, huh, Jemma? Well, I'm sure you're right.” He rapped the lab table as he moved away from it. “Okay, doc, I'll leave you to work your magic. Call me when you get a result. I mean, I don't know why the guy would lie about being Thomas Ward, other than to try and score with the hot girl _wanting_ him to be Thomas Ward..." He trailed off then, as though he realised he had said too much, so Jemma pretended to be oblivious to his apparent bitterness, focusing on taking the cup out of the bag instead. "Anyway," Trip continued, "let me know when you find out for sure."

"Will do,” she replied. Trip turned and walked out of the lab then, and Jemma stared sadly after him for a while, before returning to the task at hand.

 

It was little surprise to Jemma that the DNA test confirmed that Lincoln Campbell was indeed a close relative of Grant Ward. Skye had great instincts. Jemma informed Coulson and Trip. She couldn’t help feeling that the latter was somewhat disappointed by the news. She wondered if he had been hoping to be able to tell Skye that Lincoln had lied to her. Or perhaps it was the fact that such news would mean Skye would have to leave Chicago and come home. Jemma mused over such thoughts as she tidied up after herself, putting away her equipment and locking up the lab for the night.

Fitz was playing video games on the sofa with Mack and Hunter as she passed the living area on her way back to her room. He glanced at her as she walked past, and she gave him a significant look while Mack and Hunter were distracted by what was going on in the game. Walking on down the corridor, she smiled to herself in satisfaction as she heard Fitz calling her a few moments later, and turned to wait for him to catch up with her. For some reason he looked strangely nervous, and Jemma wondered about that as she filled him on Skye's mission, hoping her work-related chatter would seem innocuous to anyone that passed them, and they wouldn't look like two co-workers sneaking off for illicit relations. They reached the door of Jemma's room and Fitz said goodnight to her before entering the room next to her.

After closing the door behind her, Jemma walked to the middle of her room, and stood gazing at the red brick wall in front of her. A moment later, Fitz walked through it, and Jemma giggled as she saw his smug expression.

"You really love doing that, don't you?" she asked fondly.

"I'll be honest, it’s never going to get old," he replied with a grin. "I always feel like I'm in Harry Potter."

"You mean the porn version though, right?" she said in a breathy tone as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She was waiting for him to respond with some equally flirtatious joke before kissing her, but instead he licked his lips nervously, and gently placed his hands on the sides of her waist with his hands, as if to move her back from him. Mortified and wounded, Jemma instantly dropped her arms to her sides and stood back, her heart thumping in her chest as she waited for him to say whatever he obviously wanted to say.

He stepped forward and took her hands in his. "Ahm...listen, Jemma...would you mind if we didn't...you know…tonight? It's just..." He looked down, gathering either courage or his thoughts, Jemma wasn't sure. A flock of birds was taking flight in her stomach. Fitz raised his head and looked her in the eye again. "It's just that...we've been having so much sex recently, and I'm kinda worn out and...well, I was thinking that maybe we could just...hang out instead? And just...talk maybe? Or I dunno...watch a movie or something?"

It was taking every ounce of strength Jemma had in her body not to cry. He was rejecting her. They'd had so much sex that he was completely over his attraction to her now, and he didn't want her that way anymore, he just wanted to go back to being friends. Maybe this was why he’d been sad recently, because he didn’t want to do this anymore and he didn’t know how to tell her.

She nodded dumbly, trying to pull herself together enough to speak. "If you're tired, are you sure you wouldn't rather just go to bed?" she said as evenly as she could muster, extracting her hands from his. "You know, you don't have to spend time with me, if you don't want to. If you want to just go to bed, that's fine, I understand."

A pained expression crossed his face and he scratched his neck awkwardly. "Uhm... I don't...I mean, I'm tired but...I just..." He sighed and put his hands on his hips. "I miss you, Jemma," he finally said, looking down at the ground.

Jemma stared at him in amazement. " _You miss me??_ What are you talking about?! How can you possibly _miss_ me?! We've been sleeping in the same bed every night for almost a month now! We've been – excuse my French – _fucking like rabbits_ every chance we get, for god’s sake!!"

"I know, and that's the problem," Fitz replied heatedly. Jemma recoiled as if he'd slapped her. Fitz instantly squeezed his eyes shut in regret. He opened them again and took a deep breath, holding up his hands in apology. "I mean, it's not that I don't _really_ love having sex with you," he continued in a placatory, almost pleading tone. "You know I do, Jemma. It’s basically my favourite thing in the world to do. And it's not that I haven't really, really, _really_ enjoyed the last few weeks. I absolutely have, it’s been amazing, the best time of my life. But it's just that...well…that's _all_ we do now. Our entire relationship outside of work consists of having sex. I feel like I haven't actually talked to you in ages, except in a professional capacity, because every time we're alone together, we just start tearing each other’s clothes off. And like, I say, it's not that I don't love that, but it’s just that you wanted us to be friends with benefits. But at the moment it feels like it’s all benefits, and we forgot about being friends. And I just miss us being friends, Jemma."

Jemma felt frozen to the spot, her gut churning. She clenched her fists anxiously as she struggled to remain composed. "So you're saying you want to go back to just being friends?" she asked. She could hear the quiver in her own voice and she cursed herself for being such a child.

"No!" Fitz answered so quickly it almost startled her. "I'm not saying that at all! I'm just saying we can be both. I mean, that was the plan, wasn't it…to be both?"

Jemma nodded. There was a sense in what he was saying. She had felt it herself, that even though they had been so physically intimate with each other recently, there had been a kind of emotional distance between them. A wall of sorts. In the back of her mind, she vaguely wondered if that's why she had been so insistent on knocking down the physical wall between them, in an attempt to get closer to him.

"And I think you know by now, how much I enjoy being with you like that," Fitz continued. "And how much I _always_ want you, so you should know that it is not easy for me to turn down sex with you. Not at all. I really don't...I mean…to be honest, I'm kind of regretting this already?" He looked so adorably distraught as he said this that Jemma couldn't help but smile, her insides settling back into their usual functions as the panic that he might be ending their arrangement subsided. "But like I said, I just wanted to... just spend some time with you... _not_ having sex."

It was ironic that her first instinct was to kiss him and it occurred to Jemma that she wasn't entirely sure how to express affection towards Fitz in a non-sexual way anymore. She wanted to hug him - that was how she had always demonstrated her feelings when they were just friends, but she wasn't sure how he would take that. Would he see it as being too physical, too intimate, after he had stated that he wanted to be friends for the evening? She settled for a nod and a smile.

"Okay," she said, feeling strangely timid. "Um...so...would you maybe like to watch some Doctor Who perhaps? We do need to catch up on the new series."

Fitz beamed at her in relief. "Yes, that would be great," he breathed.

"I wish you'd said earlier, I could have made some snacks," Jemma admonished him as she went to get her laptop. "And maybe got some beer."

Fitz looked quite devastated by this realisation. "I didn't think...I was nervous about what you’d say..." A moment later, he perked up. "Hunter has beer in the fridge, I'm sure he could spare a few bottles. We'll replace them tomorrow. And there's microwave popcorn in the kitchen as well."

"Okay," Jemma replied. "I'll go get those, and you hook up my laptop to your TV," she said as she handed him her computer.

"No, you do that," Fitz replied. "It'll look weird if you go and get popcorn and beer for yourself at this time of night, but nobody will blink an eye if I do it."

Jemma looked at him blankly. "But we're not doing anything wrong...for once. Why do we still need the subterfuge?"

"To hide the fact that we've connected our rooms?" Fitz said impatiently. “Remember everyone else thinks there’s a wall separating us, they wouldn't understand how we’d be able to watch Doctor Who together after we’ve gone into our respective bedrooms for the night.”

"But if I go and get popcorn and beer and then come back and knock on your door," Jemma argued, "it'll just look like we're doing exactly what we're doing - watching TV."

"Why is all this so unnecessarily complicated?" Fitz sighed. "Okay, you do that. I'll set up the TV."

Jemma left and went to the kitchen, calling out to Hunter to ask if she could take a few beers as she passed the living room. Somewhat confusingly, he smiled to himself at her request, never taking his eyes off the game as he told her to go ahead. Jemma had the sudden sneaking suspicion that Fitz had discussed his no-sex request with Hunter before he had approached her. The thought caused her a surprising amount of jealousy, and not a little pain, which she struggled to comprehend as she made some popcorn in the microwave and packed some bottles of beer in a cooler. As she made her way back to their room, she concluded that Fitz was absolutely right. They hadn't actually been _friends_ since they had begun their ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement, and the awful thing was that it seemed to have resulted in Hunter now more or less replacing her as Fitz's best friend. That thought stung, and she decided that tonight's platonic hang-out was actually long overdue.

Fitz had everything ready to go in his room when she got back. He had also changed into a pair of tartan pyjama bottoms and his Academy sweatshirt. He looked so adorable she had to resist the urge to slip her hands around his waist and suck his bottom lip into her mouth. Instead she calmly handed him the beer and popcorn and walked through their holographic wall to change into her own pyjamas. It felt a little silly to be getting undressed in the other room from Fitz - after all, he was intimately familiar with every inch of her body by now - but she knew it was inappropriate to be naked in front of him when they had agreed to keep things platonic tonight. It was a strange line they had to straddle now, and it was all her fault. She desperately hoped that her idea hadn't done irreparable damage to their friendship.

As she walked back through the wall, she realized that she wasn’t quite sure where to sit. The only options were Fitz’s bed or the chair at his desk. The desk chair wasn’t the most comfortable option for marathonning a TV show, but she was worried that he might feel that lying on the bed together had romantic overtones. As she hovered somewhat awkwardly, Fitz handed her a beer and then disappeared through the wall into her room. She stared after him in confusion, before he reappeared a few moments later with the pillows from her bed, which he then proceeded to build into a comfortable-looking pile along with his own pillows. Finally, grabbing his own beer and the remote control he had designed for watching TV through the laptop, he climbed onto the bed. Sitting with his back against the pillows, he motioned for Jemma to sit beside him. Relieved at his invitation, she grabbed the popcorn and settled down beside him, while Fitz pressed play on the remote control. All she had to do now was to keep her hands to herself and try not to flirt with him while they watched the episodes he had lined up. It would be fine, she reassured herself. After all they’d been best friends for a decade. They could easily slip back into their old dynamic for a night. Couldn’t they?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yes, the theory that I referred to was, as you probably guessed, that Lincoln is Ward's long-lost brother, Thomas. I should point out at this stage however, that the character of Lincoln/Thomas in this fic is largely my own creation and is really a plot device who bears little relation to either Lincoln Campbell or Thomas Ward as they are portrayed in the show. Think of it as Luke Mitchell playing a different character, if you will - or at least a different version of Lincoln! :-)


	23. Words With Friends Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz's platonic TV night with Jemma doesn't go quite as planned, and the next day he discusses his situation with Hunter. What Hunter has to say kinda blows his mind, but their conversation gets interrupted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry that this update has been so long in coming. I had to take a hiatus to finish my dissertation, but now I'm all done, so there'll be no more interruptions to this fic. By way of apology - some smut ahead!

As Fitz settled down on the pillow beside Jemma, he tried to focus his attention on the screen, instead of on the fact that she smelt really good. Or that she looked ludicrously cute in those pyjamas with the teddy bears on them. Or that her hand kept brushing against his as they reached into the popcorn bowl. After a month of sex with her almost every night, he was finding incredibly difficult to refrain from touching her. It wasn’t even that he wanted to have sex, he hadn’t been lying about being kind of tired, but it would be nice to just cuddle…or maybe kiss a little? Could they do that? Was that part of the deal? No, he needed to be strong. Tonight was just about being friends. It was about doing anything other than having sex. It was about connecting again. He’d felt such a distance between them lately. It was like he didn’t know what Jemma was thinking anymore. He couldn’t read her like he used to, and that was seriously disconcerting. It was more than that, it was lonely. All she ever wanted to do now was have sex and while he was always happy to oblige, it had been so long since they’d actually talked or laughed or joked or watched TV together. He’d meant it when he said he missed her. He had a store of things he wanted to talk to her about - articles he’d read, things that had happened in the garage or on a mission when she wasn’t there, things people on the base had said, gossip or jokes he had heard. Lots of things he had thought he would tell Jemma when he next saw her, but they’d all been forgotten as soon as they were alone and her lips were on his and her hands were inside his shirt. He loved her touching him like that, he loved getting to touch her like that, but he was beginning to feel a little like that was all she wanted from him lately. He wanted to feel important to her again. He wanted to make her laugh. He wanted to impress her with his ideas or abilities. He wanted to feel like she just wanted to hang out with him, and enjoy his company without sex being involved. He had been so relieved when she agreed to it, but what he hadn’t been counting on was how difficult he would find it to not think about her in a sexual way.

  
Right now, for example, he was distracted by her sucking the salt from the popcorn off her fingers. It was sexy as hell. It reminded him of the day she had sat astride him in one of the matching lacy lingerie sets she had bought after they had started sleeping together – underwear she had bought to wear for just him, he couldn’t help noting with pride. As he had lain on the bed, he had raised his hand to brush her hair off her face, and she had licked the centre of his palm. It had felt incredibly nice, and he could see by the impish smirk on her face that she knew how much he liked it. And so she had proceeded to slowly and sensuously suck each and every one of his fingers on his right hand, before licking along the inside of his wrist and up the inside of his arm. It had been a surprisingly erotic experience and the memories of it were currently blazing phantom trails of heat over his skin. He remembered how she had sucked and nibbled her way across his shoulder while his hands traversed the curves of her body. He thought about how she had kissed him behind his ear, soldering his insides and pushing them down into his cock. Then she had sucked along the column of his throat, while he throbbed with want before eventually, blessedly, working her way down his chest and stomach to his…no, no, no, he thought warningly, as he began to feel a stirring in his groin. _Do not think about that_. The problem was, once it was in his head, it was all he could think about, the image of Jemma in a deep burgundy lace bra and thong - a dramatic colour against her pale, freckled skin - sucking on his cock like it was a delicious treat. He took a long drink of his beer and tried to focus on what was happening on the screen. It was at that point that he realised that he had no idea what the hell was going on in the episode and he wondered exactly how long it had been since he’d paid any kind of attention at all. Then Jemma sat forward suddenly, swinging her legs behind her and getting onto all fours. She crawled down to the end of the bed, leaning over the edge to grab another beer from the cooler. Her perfect, curvy, pyjama-clad arse was right in his eye line, and try as he might, he could not look away.

  
“Are you ready for another?” Jemma asked as she looked over her shoulder at him. As he tore his eyes from her bum to her face, he could tell by her smirk that she had caught him looking. He felt his face burn as he nodded, and he leant over the side of the bed to hide his face while he deposited his empty bottle on the floor. She handed him a bottle as he sat back up, and he reached for it, desperately trying not to think about how close his hand came to her arse – close enough to grab it and squeeze it. He knew exactly how that would feel in his hands and he shifted uncomfortably on the bed, trying to find a position that disguised the fact that he was now half-hard under his pyjamas. Jemma grabbed another bottle for herself and then turned round on the bed, shuffling back up it on her knees. As she turned over, flopping onto her backside again, her pyjama top fell over to one side, exposing the side of her right breast to him. He almost groaned aloud. He wanted nothing more in that moment to slide his hand inside her top and massage her breast, knowing how it would make her gasp and bite her lip – especially if he were to run his thumb across her nipple and feel it pebble in response to his touch. He could feel the blood rushing straight to his cock then as that thought flashed through his mind, and he crossed his legs and sank lower on the bed, holding the cold beer bottle up to his neck, both as a way to cool down and to provide a barrier of sorts between him and Jemma.

  
“Fitz,” Jemma said softly.

  
“Hmmm?” he replied in what he hoped sounded like an absent tone, pretending to be focused on the TV. Who the hell was this guy though, and when did he come into it, he thought as he stared at the screen.

  
“Fitz, look at me,” Jemma said. He swallowed and turned to look at her. She was smiling softly at him. “You know that we can hang out together, just as friends, and watch TV or do whatever you want anytime, don’t you?” she said. “All you have to do is ask.”

  
He nodded at her. “Umm, yeah. Yeah. Of course.”

  
“So you know that if you wanted to do something else right now, that would be okay as well, and it doesn’t change the fact that we’re still friends, and we can watch Doctor Who any other time?”

  
He shrugged as innocently as he possibly could. “I don’t …what are you talking about?” he asked.

  
Jemma looked down at his crotch pointedly, and Fitz’s eyes followed to the tent he was pitching there. Ah, damn it, he thought. Great. I’m the one wanting to just be friends tonight and I can’t even make it through a Doctor Who episode without getting a bloody hard on.

  
“I can help you with that,” Jemma whispered at him seductively.

  
Fitz banged his head back on the headboard. “No, don’t do that,” he whined, “this wasn’t supposed to be the point…”

  
“I know, I know,” she soothed him. “But apparently your body thinks otherwise.” Fitz ran his hands over his face and groaned. Jemma sat back on her heels suddenly and looked at him.

  
“Do you really not want me to?” she said in a serious tone.

  
“Of course I bloody want you to!” he cried out in exasperation. “I wouldn’t have this,” he said, gesturing to his cock, “if I didn’t. I just wanted to have one evening together where that wasn’t the be all and end all of our relationship!”

  
“It’s not!” Jemma said in surprise, taking his hands in hers. “Fitz! Sex is not the be all and end all of our relationship! Of course it isn’t! We’re still us, aren’t we?”

  
Fitz shrugged. “I don’t know anymore. Are we? We can’t even get through an episode of Doctor Who without…well, you know.”

  
Jemma regarded him. “This is really upsetting you, isn’t it?” she asked in a quiet voice. “Look, I’ll tell you what. We agreed that we were going to be both friends and have benefits, so I’ll just take care of this for you, with my mouth, and then we can go back to watching the show, and not do anything else the rest of the night.” Fitz shook his head in protest at the idea that he was so horny his best friend had to suck him off just so they could watch their favourite TV show together. It was excruciating. “This is just a little speedbump,” Jemma continued, “…not that it’s little, but you know what I mean,” she said with a giggle. She immediately bit her lip to suppress her amusement as Fitz gave her a wry look. “I mean it, Fitz, I told you in Malta, your friendship means the world to me, and if I thought that this…,” she gestured between them, “was ruining it, then I would rather just have my vibrator keep me company for the rest of my life, than risk what we have.”

  
Fitz stared at her, his mouth agape and his mind blank except for one thought. “Your…? You have… a vibrator?”

  
She shrugged and nodded.

  
“And you…use it?”

  
“Well, I haven’t really needed to for about month now,” she replied coyly. “But yeah…that’s what I did…before…”

  
“ _Fuck_.” Fitz couldn’t help it anymore, it was too much. He clasped his hand around her neck and pulled her towards him, capturing her full, moist, beer-and-salt-flavoured lips in his, an action now so familiar to him and yet still so exciting every time. She reciprocated enthusiastically, as she always did, before pulling away from him briefly and handing him her beer bottle.

“Hold on to that or put it down on the floor, whichever you prefer,” she said with a wicked grin, as she slipped her hand up inside his sweatshirt and began to undo the tie at the top his pyjama trousers. Fitz groaned.

  
“No, stop, wait a minute,” he protested. Jemma pulled back in alarm and stared at him anxiously. Fitz sighed and shook his head, leaning forward to peck her lips in reassurance. “I just want to put these over here,” he said, brandishing the two beer bottles so she could see them, before getting up off the bed and walking over to his desk where he deposited them. Turing back to the bed, he saw Jemma still kneeling there waiting for him, in her adorable red pyjamas, and her hair tied back from her breathtakingly pretty face. Not for the first time, he thought about what an unbelievably lucky bastard he was. Crossing the room again, he took her face in his hands and kissed her hard, pouring all the emotions he was afraid to express into that action. She kissed him back with a hunger that made him wonder how she could still want him so badly after all the sex they’d had. His stomach tightened pleasantly as she slid her hands inside his sweatshirt, pushing it up his torso to his chin. They broke apart for a moment while he pulled it over his head, before he leant forward to capture her mouth again. She kissed him back for a moment and then paused to look down at where his hands were working quickly, loosening the buttons of her pyjama top.

  
“I thought I was just going to take care of your erection,” she whispered with a smile.

  
“I can’t let you do that,” Fitz answered with an earnest shake of his head, “not without at least returning the favour.” He popped the last button open and pulled her shirt open. He watched her face for the way she exhaled as he slid his hands over her naked breasts, and then how she bit her lip and inclined her head when he stroked her nipples. As he knelt on the bed and bent to take one of them into his mouth, he slipped his hand inside the back of her pyjama bottoms and massaged her bum, eliciting a groan from her throat.

  
“Oh god, that feels so good,” she moaned breathily.

  
He smiled around her nipple while he circled his tongue around it. At the same time, he stroked the other one with his thumb, enjoying the way her breathing quickened, escaping in little whimpers. With his other hand, he dragged her pyjama trousers down to her knees, and then releasing her nipple from his mouth, he pushed her down onto her back. Whipping her trousers off the rest of the way, he pushed his own down as well, stepping out of them and kicking them aside. Straight away, as always, Jemma reached for his cock, running her finger up along the underside of his shaft, before swirling her thumb over the glans. A shudder of pleasure ran through him.

  
“Oh fuck,” he groaned. He climbed onto the bed, positioning himself over the top of her. She curled her hand around his shaft and squeezed firmly, before giving him a few quick pumps. “Oh, god, Jemma,” he whispered. “I _cannot_ fucking resist you.”

  
She smiled and bit her lip seductively, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Good,” she replied. “Because I can’t resist you either. Now get on your back.”

  
He rolled over willingly and she straddled him, wickedly sliding her saturated folds over his balls and along his cock, until her clit rubbed against his glans. They moaned in unison, and Fitz grabbed her hips to guide her into the movement again, but she pulled back from his grip, sliding back down his cock. Putting her hands down either side of him on the bed, she pushed herself back onto her knees, and lowered herself to begin softly kissing her way up his inner thigh. He slipped one hand behind his head, leaving the other free to caress her jaw as she licked up the underside of his penis before taking the tip into her mouth. God, he loved it when she did that. He closed his eyes, revelling in the sensation of her mouth closing around him. He opened his eyes again as a tantalising thought occurred to him and he glanced down at her.

  
“Hey, Jemma,” he said softly.

  
Her eyes flickered up to meet his.

  
“Maybe after this, you might want to show how me how that vibrator works.”

  
Her eyes widened and she took his cock in her hand, as she pulled her mouth off it.

  
“Yeah?” she said almost shyly, whilst stroking his cock.

  
“Yeah,” he replied. “You know…just out of scientific curiosity.” He flashed a grin at her, and she returned it before swirling her tongue around his tip, and closing her mouth over the top of it again. He groaned loudly, and his hand lovingly clasped the back of her head as she took him deeper into her mouth. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a distant voice was chastising him for lack of willpower, but the rest of him couldn’t have cared less. He was absolutely lost in her again.

 

 

“So how did last night go?” Hunter asked with raised eyebrows, as he looked at the Xbox controller Fitz had just thrown down on the sofa in annoyance. Hunter had completely thrashed him at FIFA 16, thanks to his mind being entirely elsewhere. He sighed and threw his head back against the back of the sofa.

  
“You had sex, didn’t you?” Hunter said with a self-satisfied smirk.

  
“Yes,” Fitz said in a resigned tone. “For hours. And it was bloody brilliant as well,” he added moodily. Images flashed through his mind of Jemma screaming and grasping the sheets below her, her back arching and her lithe body writhing in pleasure while he used the vibrator on her. He hoped Hunter didn’t notice his breath hitch or the way he hugged the cushion in front of him.

  
“Well, I don’t like to say ‘I told you so’,” Hunter replied with a mock-sigh, as he sat back and started pressing the buttons on his controller again, “but…I told you so!”

  
“Yes, you did, and aren’t you very clever,” Fitz snapped. Hunter deflected his ire with a shrug, and Fitz rubbed his hands over his face. “What am I going to do, Hunter?” he asked in despair.

  
“It’s like I told you yesterday, mate,” Hunter replied, not taking his eyes off the screen. “Trying to be friends again is not going to solve this. You may not be sexually frustrated anymore, but the problem now is that you are romantically frustrated instead.”

  
“That’s not a real thing,” Fitz said irritably.

  
“It is a real thing, and you are suffering from it,” Hunter said as he manoeuvred his player around the pitch. “The problem is that you don’t want her to be your best friend anymore. You want her to be your girlfriend. You want to talk and hang out and all that, but you want to be able do it as a couple, not as mates. There’s no getting around it with your ‘friendship nights’, you’re going to have to tell her how you feel.”

  
“No,” Fitz replied emphatically. “That’s the one thing I can’t do. That will ruin absolutely everything.”

  
“Are you entirely sure about that?” Hunter asked him.

  
Fitz was taken aback. “What do you mean?”

  
Hunter paused the game and turned to face Fitz, taking a breath before he spoke. “Look, mate, far be it from me to give you false hope, but I wouldn’t say this unless I really, honestly believed it. The thing is, I’m not quite the Sherlock Holmes-esque super spy Bobbi is, with all her ‘I can tell what you had for breakfast by the stain on your tie, and I can tell by your stance that you played lacrosse in school, and your accent tells me that you were born within 2.6 miles of Istanbul,’ and all that malarkey, but I do have good instincts about people. You, for instance, I liked right away.”

  
“You did?” Fitz asked.

  
“Yeah,” Hunter replied.

  
“Aw, Hunter,” Fitz said, touched.

  
“Yeah, alright, leave it out,” Hunter said. “Anyway, I could also see that you were arse over tits for Simmons right off the bat.”

  
“Really,” Fitz groaned, “I’m that obvious?”

  
“Oh yeah,” Hunter replied with an emphatic nod. “You are. But Simmons, I wasn’t sure about to begin with. I mean, she seemed very sweet, but she’s a lot harder to get a read on than you are. She was just so… _professional_ all the time. Business-like. Always in scientist mode or doctor mode. I like to size up the people I’m working with when I first meet them, so I was curious about her. Because the only person on this base who was harder to read than Simmons was May - and don’t even ask me about that one, I still don’t have a fucking clue what makes her tick. But Simmons, yeah, she was a puzzle at first. I could see she was a bit bossy. She’s a bit of a mother hen, she’s posh, she gets really excited about science, and she _really_ likes to be organised.”

  
“Yeah, she does,” Fitz agreed fondly.

  
“Always wanting to have everything in its place, always wanting to label everything and organise it, always wanting to cut things up and take things apart to see how they worked,” Hunter continued.

  
“Yeah, that’s Jemma alright,” Fitz sighed.

  
“And wanting everyone else to be just as organised, to follow her systems, to stick to the rules, and to behave in way that she could understand,” Hunter said. “She doesn’t like it when things are messy, does she, your Jemma?”

  
Fitz shook his head. “She does not.”

  
“So why the fuck would someone like that, someone who likes things neat and tidy and easy to understand, _start sleeping with their best friend, of all people?_ I mean, that’s bound to get messy. It doesn’t make any sense, does it?” Hunter asked him.

  
“To be honest, I did find that very odd to begin with,” Fitz admitted. “But she said that it was a logical solution to the problem of us not being able to have relationships and being…you know…sexually frustrated. And Jemma is nothing if not logical.”

  
“And did you think that was logical?” Hunter asked him with a raised eyebrow.

  
“No, I thought it was nuts,” Fitz answered. “But Jemma can take logic to illogical extremes at times.”

  
“You mean like when she really wants something but she can’t admit that she wants it, so she tries to rationalise it?” Hunter asked him.

  
Fitz frowned at him. He couldn’t for the life of him see where Hunter was going with this. “What’s your point, Hunter?” he asked.

  
Hunter sighed. “Put it this way - If you thought that being friends with benefits was nuts, then why did you agree to it?”

  
Fitz shrugged helplessly. “Because I’m in love with her,” he replied.

  
“And you didn’t want to tell her that?” Hunter asked.

  
“Of course not,” Fitz replied. “I wanted to be with her but I didn’t want to risk our friendship.”

  
“Bingo!” Hunter exclaimed.

  
Fitz was utterly confused. “What are you on about?” he asked.

  
“Well, that’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Hunter said, with the exasperated air of someone trying to explain something simple to someone very dense. It was not a tone Fitz was used to hearing and he didn’t care for it one bit. “This is the thing that I observed when I was trying to figure Simmons out. She’s so guarded and hard to read until she’s around you. Then she’s easy to understand.”

  
“Around me?” Fitz asked in astonishment. “What do you mean?”

  
“Well, she lets her guard down around you,” Hunter replied. “She’s just more…human around you. She doesn’t seem to like to be without you. Every time she walks into a room, and you aren’t in it, the first thing she says is ‘where’s Fitz?’ She mentions you all the time in conversation, your name is like her favourite word. She boasts about your achievements, she hangs on your every word when you’re talking, she watches you when you’re not looking, with this little smile on her face, and she frets the whole time you’re away on a mission. And she makes you sandwiches, Fitz. She makes you a packed lunch when you’re going on a mission. Bobbi has never done that for me, and we were married, for Christ’s sake!”

  
Fitz shrugged uncertainly. “Well, she’s my best friend...,” he began.

  
“That’s not a best friend, Fitz,” Hunter interrupted him. “Best friends don’t talk about you constantly and make you sandwiches and pace up and down distractedly, constantly checking the clock every time you’re away from them. Do you ever see her doing that for Skye? No, you don’t. Or do you see Mack doing that for Bobbi? Mack and Bobbi have been best friends for years, long before I ever came on the scene, and I have never once seen either of them make the other one a packed lunch before a mission, Fitz. You know who does that? Someone who’s in love with you. That’s who.”

  
“No, that’s nonsense,” Fitz scoffed. “She’s not in love with me – if she was, she wouldn’t want to just be friends with benefits.”

  
“Fitz, you are obviously the most precious thing in her life! You saw her at the airport hangar in Malta, she nearly lost her shit when Ward had that gun to your head. She was willing to do whatever he asked as long as you were safe. Why would she want to have the odd bit of casual sex with someone that important to her?! She doesn’t want to just be friends with benefits, and deep down inside, you know that,” Hunter replied, “you’re just afraid to let yourself believe it. Friends with benefits don’t knock bloody walls down so that they can live together! Just ask Skye and Trip.”

  
Fitz raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You know about Skye and Trip?” he asked.

  
Hunter gave him a look of disdain. “Please,” he replied scornfully. “As if there’s anything that goes on in this base that I _don’t_ know about.”

  
Fitz folded his arms over his chest. “Yeah, I don’t know how they manage it,” he replied. “Sleeping with your friend is a terrible idea, but it seems to work for them. Their relationship isn’t the mess than mine and Jemma’s is,” he said in a melancholy tone.

  
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Hunter replied enigmatically. “It’s very possible that their relationship is actually a LOT more complicated than yours and Jemma’s.” Fitz looked at him in confusion. “This is what I’m trying to tell you,” Hunter told him. “Your situation is actually really bloody simple. You’re both madly in love with each other. You just need to admit it.”

  
Fitz was sceptical. The possibility of what Hunter was saying was making his heart race, but he wasn’t going to let himself believe it for a second, not when it would destroy him to have that sliver of hope shattered.

  
“Like I said,” Hunter continued. “Do you think that Little Miss ‘B is for Blue is for Biological’ who wants to explain and understand everything in the universe so that she can label it and put it in the right place, and create order out of chaos, and control everything that happens – do you think that it seems in character for her to be so willing for the boundaries between you two to become so blurred by sleeping together?”

  
“No,” Fitz admitted.

  
“And that’s the only logical explanation for why she suggested it in the first place. Because she’s in love with you, and she thought this was the only way she could deal with it without telling you. In fact, she probably hasn’t even realised it herself yet. That’s what Bobbi thinks, anyway.”

  
“Wait…Bobbi thinks this too?” Fitz asked in amazement.

  
“Yeah,” Hunter replied. “She thinks Simmons isn’t very good at being in touch with her feelings, so she just hasn’t recognised the fact that she’s in love with you.”

  
“You’re serious,” Fitz asked, “Bobbi honestly thinks that Jemma is in love with me?”

  
“Why are you so excited about the fact that Bobbi thinks that?” Hunter complained. “I just explained in great detail why I thought that was the case, and you didn’t ruddy believe me!”

  
“Well, you said it yourself, Bobbi is a Sherlock Holmes-esque super spy,” Fitz replied reasonably. “Plus, she’s actually friends with Jemma, so, no offence, but I trust her judgment on the matter more than yours.” He folded his arms in interest, and shifted to face Hunter on the sofa. “So what exactly did Bobbi say?” he asked.

  
“Fitz!” Jemma’s voice came from behind them suddenly, and Fitz leapt off the sofa in alarm.

  
“Nothing!” he exclaimed in a panic as he turned to face her.

  
Jemma stopped short and frowned at him. “Umm…what??” she asked hesitantly. She looked at Hunter for explanation, but Hunter shrugged as if he had no idea what Fitz was talking about.

  
“Nothing,” Fitz repeated sheepishly, as he felt the redness creeping up his neck. “I was…doing nothing, sitting here with Hunter, when I should have been in the lab. I’m sorry, I’ll come back now.”

  
“Never mind about that,” Jemma waved her hand impatiently. “I’ve just been on the phone with Skye. We’ve got a big problem. Apparently she met Lincoln Campbell again last night, and she went back to his apartment and they spent hours talking and bonding, and basically it seems that she’s fallen head over heels for him! She just kept going on about how nice he was, and how funny and how much they connected and…long story short, he’s asked her out on a date, and she’s said yes!”

  
“She’s what??” Hunter stood up off the sofa and turned around to gape at her.

  
“I know,” Jemma replied, as she nodded at him.

  
Fitz looked between the both of them, unsure of what exactly the problem was or what he was expected to do about it.

  
“And that’s bad…because he’s Ward’s brother?” he guessed.

  
“He’s Ward’s brother, he’s the target in this mission, and…” Hunter hesitated, but Jemma jumped in before he could say anything more.

  
“And Trip’s about to leave in the quinjet with a team to back her up,” she cried, wringing her hands. “I don’t know what to do, I can’t break Skye’s confidence, but I can’t let him go out there without warning him about what he’s going to find.”

  
Hunter closed his eyes and opened them again.

  
“Warning him about what?” Fitz asked blankly. “You mean that Skye’s going on a date with someone else? You said they were friends with benefits, that’s all. Surely Trip won’t be bothered?”

  
Jemma stared at him for a moment, her eyes wide and spots of colour appearing on her cheeks. “ _Oh_ ,” she replied eventually, before looking down at her hands.

  
Hunter shook his head. “No,” he said to Fitz, “I think he will mind. I told you, I think that’s situation’s a lot more complicated than yours.” Jemma’s head shot up as he said this, and she looked from one to the other with a shocked expression, before returning her gaze to where she was repeatedly rubbing her hands against each other. Fitz shuffled awkwardly and shook his head emphatically at Hunter, scolding him non-verbally for letting it slip that they had discussed Fitz and Jemma’s arrangement. Hunter was lost in thought and appeared not to notice.

  
“I think Trip has feelings for Skye,” Jemma said quietly, not looking up from her hands. “Very strong feelings.” Her voice sounded quivery like it did when she was about to cry, and Fitz became alarmed. She was upset, and he wasn’t sure why. Was it just about the whole Trip and Skye thing, or was it the fact that he’d been talking to Hunter about their relationship? Or was it something he’d said? She seemed to react badly to him saying that he didn’t think Trip would be bothered by Skye dating someone else, but he didn’t understand why that would upset her.

  
“Fitz, you have to tell him,” Hunter decided. Fitz stared at him. “Simmons is right,” Hunter continued. “We can’t let the poor bastard walk into that situation unprepared.”

  
“Why me?!” Fitz argued. “I don’t know anything about all this. The two of you seem to know a hell of a lot more than me about it.”

  
“Simmons can’t break Skye’s confidence,” Hunter explained. “While Skye would be mad at _her_ for telling Trip about her date, she won’t be so mad at her for telling _you_. In fact, she’ll probably expect it. She would, however, be mad at her for telling _me_ , because I’m not as close to her as you are. Otherwise, I would tell Trip.”

  
“But then Skye will be mad at _me_ for breaking her confidence,” Fitz retorted.

  
“But you’re not breaking her confidence,” Hunter reasoned. “Skye didn’t tell you. So, as far as she’s aware, you didn’t know that Trip wasn’t supposed to know.”

  
“She didn’t actually say that,” Jemma said in the same quiet voice. She looked at Hunter, and it seemed to Fitz like she was deliberately avoiding eye contact with him. “She didn’t tell me not to tell him. I asked her about Trip, and she said what Fitz said…” - her eyes flickered to meet Fitz’s, and he almost flinched when he saw the hurt there - “…that he wouldn’t care if she went out with someone else.” She put a strange emphasis on the words that he didn't quite understand. She cleared her throat, and then looked back at Hunter. “But I wouldn’t feel right about repeating the conversation to Trip, after I specifically asked Skye about her relationship with him. I think she’d see that as me interfering or something.”

  
Hunter nodded. Fitz was about to open his mouth to speak when the base alarm started blaring, making him almost jump out of his skin. Both he and Jemma instantaneously covered their ears, looking wildly around to see what was happening. Hunter immediately ran to the security monitors, and then swore loudly.

  
“What is it?” Fitz yelled above the noise.

  
“Security feed is down,” Hunter shouted back. “I think we have a foothold situation.” He started running towards the weapons store, and Fitz and Jemma followed suit. As they ran down the corridor, they were intercepted by Coulson and Bobbi running towards them.

  
“Sir, what’s going on?” Hunter shouted.

  
“It’s Ward,” Coulson shouted back. “He’s taken Storch. We were wondering why it was taking him so long to find his brother, it turns out he was looking for us as well. The bastard’s managed to break in without us knowing, and vanish with our prisoner. He even had the gall to look right into the security camera just before the feed went down.” Coulson shook his head in disgust. “No doubt he’s planning to use the circlets on Storch to find out what he told us. Which means he’ll know that we’ve been looking for Thomas.”

  
At that moment, Trip and his team appeared in full tactical gear, guns trained and ready to fire on any hostile intruders. Mack followed them, an ICER in his hand. Coulson waved at them, and Trip signalled for his team to lower their guns. Trip and Mack approached Coulson.

  
“What’s the situation, sir?” Trip asked.

  
“It seems Ward has quite the crush on our good friend Doctor Storch,” Coulson deadpanned. “Apparently he didn’t like us keeping him company, decided he wanted Storch all to himself.”

  
“He took our prisoner, sir?” Trip replied.

  
“He did that.”

  
“No problem, Director, we’ll get them back,” Trip said.

  
“No, Trip, I still need you on that quinjet,” Coulson replied.

  
“Sir?” Trip and Hunter responded at the same time.

  
“This kind of thing, breaking into a secure facility and extracting a prisoner?” Coulson said. “This is what Ward was trained to do, he’s an expert at it, the best I’ve ever seen. He’s in the wind now, guys, but we know what his endgame is. Only a matter of time now before he tracks Thomas down, so I need your mission to go ahead, Trip. I need you in Chicago to back up Skye and May. Hunter, Fitzsimmons? You’re going with him.”

  
“Us, sir?” Fitz and Jemma asked at the same time. Fitz noticed Hunter and Trip exchange a perplexed look before they both stared at Coulson in confusion.

  
“The two of you said you’d identified unique chemical and electromagnetic signatures that these circlet things were giving off, right?” Coulson asked them. They nodded. “Well, I need you to look for them,” he continued. “You two are going to track down the 0-8-4.”

  
They swallowed and nodded in unison.

  
“Sir, what about me?” Bobbi asked. “I should go with them.”

  
“You’re going after Ward,” Coulson said grimly. “I need the team in place in Chicago, just in case, but I need my best agent to try and stop him from getting there in the first place. Take Mack with you as well.”

  
Hunter sighed and Bobbi grinned. “Yes, sir,” she replied, as she and Mack turned to leave.

  
“Just…don’t die out there,” Hunter called after her.

  
“You either,” she called over her shoulder.

  
“Okay, what are you all waiting for?” Coulson asked them. “You have your orders.” He turned on his heel and marched off.

  
“Yes, sir,” Trip answered, as he ordered the team back to the quinjet.

  
“We’ll be there in five, Trip,” Hunter called to him. He turned to Fitz and Jemma. “Alright, you two, get into your tac gear double quick, and then meet me at the armoury. Whatever happens on this mission, neither of you are to leave my side, okay?”

  
They nodded. Fitz glanced nervously at Jemma. They’d never yet embarked on a mission without her giving him one of her reassuring nose scrunches, and him giving her a smile and a nod in return, but this time she deliberately avoided looking at him as she ran off to change into her tac gear.


	24. Conflict Resolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Fitz and Jemma prepare for the mission with no time to spare, a misunderstanding causes tempers to flare and the situation boils over. Hunter attempts to smooth the waters, and Fitz has a talk with Trip.

As Fitz hastily changed into his tac gear in his room, he could hear Jemma getting ready on the other side of their holographic wall. He could tell by the sound of her movements that she was still upset. There was a certain ferocity to the way she was opening and closing drawers that was very familiar to him, and his heart sank. He knew he had a temper - when he was angry about something, he couldn’t help but express it. But Jemma was not good at articulating what was bothering her, and in the past, he’d often had to suffer through several days of her communicating solely via the medium of overly aggressive activity before she was ready to tell him what he’d done wrong. A lot of expensive lab equipment suffered in the process, but he knew from experience that pressing her to explain her grievance before she was ready usually led to incomprehensible arguments that only made matters worse. Apparently he had a ‘tone’ that she was wont to take exception to, so he’d learned to wait it out until she had prepared a concise speech that would render him suitably contrite and the matter would finally be resolved. He would usually find that she had a point in whatever she said, and it frustrated him that it always took so long for her to communicate it, in order for them to sort it out. Yet, on the other hand, she always dealt with his mostly incoherent irate rants with great patience and calm (and not a little eye-rolling), so he couldn’t throw stones about her method of conflict resolution.

  
Right now, however, he suspected that his usual approach of waiting out the storm was no longer the appropriate response. The stakes were higher. Not only had their relationship changed in a fundamental way, but they were about to embark on a potentially dangerous mission. He needed to know now what he’d said that had upset her, so that he could make it right. His brain had been busy dissecting the conversation they’d had before the alarm went off, but he was struggling to see exactly where he’d erred. She had definitely not been impressed when Hunter had let it slip that Fitz had been discussing their arrangement with him, but there had been a change in atmosphere even before that. It was that thing about Trip not minding about Skye’s date, but he still wasn’t sure why Jemma had reacted so badly to it. Was she offended on Skye’s behalf? Or Trip’s?? It didn’t make any sense. As he finished lacing up his boots, he stood up and marched through the wall, determined to get to the bottom of this. Her head shot up from where she was packing her bag on the bed, before she looked away. He stood in front of her and folded his arms.

  
“I need to know why you’re upset with me,” he demanded. “I know you are, but I don’t know what I’ve done, so I need to you tell me now.”

  
“We don’t have time for this, Fitz,” she said wearily. “We need to get our equipment from the lab before we meet Hunter, so we have to hurry.”

  
“So tell me quickly,” he argued. “We have to sort this out before we get on that quinjet.”

  
She shook her head. “Just…never mind, Fitz. Don’t worry about it, it doesn’t matter. We need to go now.”

  
He was taken aback. He hadn’t been expecting this. She didn’t seem angry, just…sad. Hurt, even. She grabbed her backpack, and slung it over her shoulder before heading out the door without another word. Fitz’s stomach dropped. Something was terribly wrong here. He ran back into his room, grabbing his own backpack before bolting out the door and after her down the corridor.

  
“Jemma, wait,” he called to her retreating back. She didn’t turn around.

  
He caught up with her as she approached the lab.

  
“You have to talk to me, Jemma, please,” he begged. “I have to know what I’ve done wrong so that I can fix it.”

  
“You haven’t done anything wrong, Fitz,” she replied in a voice that sounded close to tears.

  
“Then why are you mad at me?” he asked in exasperation.

  
“I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at myself!” she cried as she spun around to face him. “I’m mad at myself for putting us in this situation because of my own selfishness and stupidity. I’m mad at myself for not stopping to think about what the consequences of this might be, and what kind of feelings and misunderstandings it could lead to, and now it has and I have nobody to blame but myself!”

  
Fitz took a step back in shock. Her chin was wobbling as she gazed at him, and her eyes were filling up with tears.

  
“What the hell are you talking about?” he whispered in bewilderment. “What situation? Do you mean this thing with Skye?”

  
“No, you idiot, _I mean us_!” she hissed. “You were right, Fitz, this was a mistake. It was a terrible mistake, and we should never have started it.”

  
It felt like someone had gouged open Fitz’s chest with a rusty can opener and pummelled his heart with a mallet before pulling it out, throwing it to the ground and stamping on it. The pain was unbearable and he felt like it might suffocate him with the next breath he took. He wasn’t sure if he was going to cry or be sick first, but either way he didn’t trust himself to speak. Jemma turned away from him, sniffing as she walked into the lab and started gathering up the DWARF and Retrievers cases. In a daze, Fitz walked over to the equipment store, only vaguely aware of the greetings of the lab assistants around him. He grabbed a spare case and began packing some other instruments they might need into it. He moved slowly and deliberately, his actions completely divorced from the heartbreak that was simmering below the surface, threatening to engulf him. He had a surreal sense of being somewhere outside his own body, watching himself. Snapping the case closed, he followed Jemma out of the lab again. Just as they emerged, one of the specialists came around the corner, an annoyingly tall, muscular and generically handsome specimen, name of Bryant. Fitz had noticed him eyeing Jemma up more than once, and his proximity always caused Fitz some discomfort. Really this moment couldn’t have gotten much worse than Agent Bryant instantly dashing over to take the equipment cases Jemma was carrying out of her hands.

  
“Here, Agent Simmons, let me take those for you,” he said in his irritating, nasally drawl, as he flashed her one of his sickeningly toothy grins. Fitz's stomach lurched and he ground his jaw. What exacerbated the situation was that instead of reacting as she normally would, with indignation that a man would believe her incapable of carrying her own equipment, Jemma instead bestowed a watery smile and a flustered, helpless-sounding thank you on Bryant. It was too much. The heavy ball of hurt that had settled in Fitz’s gut fractured under the pressure, releasing a pool of molten rage which erupted inside him. He was damned if he was just going to stand here and let that smarmy git move in on the love of his life right in front of him.

  
“That’s quite alright, Agent Bryant,” he snapped, as he grabbed the cases out of his hands. “Your help is not necessary, thank you very much. This is expensive equipment and I’d rather not have it handled by a Neanderthal, if you don’t mind.”

  
Jemma’s jaw dropped. Bryant let go of the cases instantly and stepped back with his hands raised, looking first at Fitz and then in Jemma in uncertainty, before turning around and walking away.

  
“ _Fitz!_ ” Jemma exclaimed in a shocked voice. “What the hell! That was unbelievably rude! He was just trying to be helpful.”

  
“Oh, was he really?” Fitz retorted angrily. “Because it seemed to me like he was just trying to get into your knickers.”

  
Jemma gasped as she stared at him, evidently outraged. “You… _arsehole!!_ ” she finally shrieked at him. Out of the corner of his eye, Fitz saw the heads of all the lab assistants whip around towards the corridor. “You are absolutely unbelievable! Where do you get off?! You are so full of shit, do you know that?”

  
She turned around and started storming away down the corridor towards the armoury, Fitz trying to follow whilst carrying three cases.

  
“Oh, I’m unbelievable?” he yelled after her. “You’re the one who just told me that we were a ‘terrible mistake’, and then _immediately_ started flirting with the first square-jawed, good-looking meathead who came around the fucking corner!”

  
Jemma spun around so fast that Fitz almost knocked into her. “ _Fuck you, you absolute bastard!_ ” she spat at him. “How dare you?! I did no such thing! I was merely being polite to the man, because he caught me at a bad time. I was upset because it turns out that my best friend is a total fucking _wanker!_ ”

  
Fitz flinched like she had slapped him. “I thought you said you weren’t mad at me?” he cried in indignation.

  
“I wasn’t!” she shouted at him. “But I sure as hell am now!”

  
“What the hell did I do??” Fitz yelled.

  
“Guys?” Hunter’s voice came from behind him, and Fitz turned to face him. The mercenary was standing in front of them with his palms raised in a placating gesture. “Do we really think this is the best time for a domestic?” he asked in a low, warning tone. “Or place, for that matter?” He looked around pointedly at the various agents standing in the hall gaping at them.

  
“Oh, that’s rich coming from you!” Fitz retorted before he could help himself.

  
“Excuse me?!” Hunter responded testily.

  
“Well, it’s not like they’re not used to you and Bobbi airing all your dirty laundry in public,” Jemma fired at him. Fitz started at her retort. He had an unfortunate habit of misdirected ire, but he’d never seen Jemma lash out at someone like that before. He wasn’t used to her swearing so much either, and found it a little shocking, if he was honest. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her this angry.

  
“You know what, fuck you both!” Hunter said in disgust. “How the fuck did I get dragged into your dysfunctional shit? I try to help and this is the thanks I get, the two of you taking your frustrations out on me.”

  
“You try to help?!” Jemma exclaimed. “What the hell does that mean exactly?” She looked from Hunter to Fitz. “What, is he giving you advice on what to do about the fact that you obviously don’t want to _fuck_ me anymore??” she spat at him.

  
“ _What???_ ” Fitz was completely dumbfounded.

  
“Jesus Christ!” Hunter stared at her in astonishment.

  
“Jemma, what the fuck are you talking about?!” Fitz half-whispered in complete bewilderment.

  
"Oh, why don't you just say it, Fitz!' she cried, as she burst in to tears. "I know that's what you want, so you may as well just tell me. Just don't act surprised when you discover that I have other options on this base. It's not beyond the realms of possibility, you know!" The way she sobbed when she said this would have broken his heart if he'd only understood what the bloody hell was going on.

  
"That's not..." He shook his head, trying to understand where all this coming from. "None of this is..."

  
Hunter pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes in exasperation. "I swear to fuck, the two of you _seriously_ need to have one hell of a talk, but unfortunately we do not have time for couples counselling right now," Hunter continued. "Everyone just needs to calm the fuck down. I told Trip we'd be five minutes, it's already been almost twenty. There is a dangerous psychopath on the loose with a device that can read minds, and he's more than likely zeroing in on one of our friends. We have to stop him so I need you both to stow the drama and focus on the mission. When you've been doing this for years, like me and Bobbi have, then you can argue and take down bad guys at the same time, but you guys need a _lot_ more experience of both, if you don't mind my saying."

  
Fitz and Jemma both hung their heads. “Sorry, Hunter,” Fitz mumbled, shamefaced.

  
“I’m sorry too, Hunter,” Jemma hiccupped.

  
“It’s alright. Things got a little heated, and we’ve all said things we regret. Now, go grab your ICERS so we can get down to the quinjet," Hunter replied. "Jemma, you might want to clean the tears off your face, love, before you get on the plane,” he added, in a surprisingly gentle tone. “It’ll make the SWAT team nervous to have a crying scientist on the mission. Alright, sweetheart?" She nodded, and wiped furiously at her face as she walked into the armoury.

  
Hunter turned to Fitz with a look of satisfaction. “Told you!” he said triumphantly, before following Jemma into the armoury.

  
“What?!” Fitz said. He had no earthly idea what was going on anymore. He walked into the armoury behind them, putting the equipment cases he was lugging on the floor, before grabbing an ICER and loading it. Jemma had reverted to avoiding eye contact with him again, and she hurried back out the door ahead of them.

  
“You told me what?” Fitz said, spinning round to face Hunter as the door swung shut.

  
“That she’s in love with you,” Hunter replied, as he tucked his ICER into his belt. “Why else would she be so upset? Now, for the love of everything holy, _let’s go_.”

 

By the time, Fitz and Hunter arrived at the quinjet, Jemma had more than regained her composure. She was standing with another agent, Agent Valenti, as she waited for Fitz and Hunter to bring the equipment cases so that she could do an inventory of what they had before they took off. Fitz briefly wondered why Agent Valenti was there, since she was communications, but she was in full tac gear at the moment, so he concluded that Trip needed her on the mission for some reason. He turned his attention to Jemma, but she was in defiant mode, head held high and looking anywhere Fitz wasn’t. She ignored him as he set down the cases in front of her, chatting to Agent Valenti instead. Fitz sighed. It appeared she had seriously gotten the wrong end of the stick and he really needed to set things straight with her, but there wasn’t time or privacy to do that right now. As soon as the inventory had been finished, Fitz and Hunter carried the cases onto the plane. Fitz stowed them in the luggage compartment, securing them with a belt to avoid them rattling about. As he did, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jemma board the plane, and move to take a seat beside one of Trip’s men.

  
“You don’t mind if I sit here, do you, Agent Scott?” he heard her say in the breathy voice she used when she was trying to flirt with someone. Fitz seethed. He had come to loathe that voice while they were at the academy. Back then he had told himself it was because it didn’t sound like her. It felt like she was trying to be someone else. He supposed that was actually true though, because it did sound very different from the low, throaty voice she used when they were alone and she was being flirtatious with _him_. The thought of _that_ voice made this fake one feel like even more of a kick to the balls. “Truth be told, I’m a little nervous about this mission, and I wouldn’t mind having a big, strong guy like you next to me, in case anything happens.” She giggled like a lunatic, and attempted to flick her hair back, evidently forgetting that she had it tied back in a ponytail.

  
“ _Oh, for the love of…!_ ” Fitz cried out, standing up and turning around to face Jemma, his hands on his hips. “ _Unbelievable!_ ” Agent Scott looked at him in confusion, whilst Jemma glared at him. She turned back to flash a simpering smile at Agent Scott.

  
“Ahm…no, of course not, Agent Simmons,” Scott answered, a little doubtfully, still staring at Fitz. He looked back at her. “But don’t worry about the mission, ma’am, it’s our job to protect you, so you’ll be fine,” he continued in a reassuring tone.

  
“Oh, thank you,” Jemma cooed, her hand on her chest. She smiled at Scott as she took her seat, batting her eyelids almost maniacally at him. Scott glanced at Fitz again, looking as if he wasn’t sure what to do.

  
“This is getting ridiculous, Jemma!” Fitz said angrily.

  
“Mind your own business, _Leo_!” Jemma snapped. Agent Scott swallowed and shifted over in his seat a little, away from Jemma.

  
Hunter sighed dramatically from where he sat on the opposite side to Jemma and Scott, and pulled Fitz down onto the seat beside him. “Be cool,” he muttered under his breath. “She’s doing this deliberately to make you jealous, so don’t play into it and cause a bloody scene, okay?!”

  
“I don’t understand why the hell she’s acting like this though,” Fitz muttered back, as he fastened his seatbelt. “I don’t know what I did to upset her so much.”

  
“Don’t you?” Hunter threw his head back against the wall of the plane, closing his eyes and sighing. “Honestly, there are times I say to Bobbi that I can’t for the life of me understand why you two aren’t together yet. And then there are times like this, when I totally understand it. It’s because both of you are complete and utter MUPPETS!” He practically shouted the last word and everyone on the plane stared at him, including Jemma, who frowned at them. Fitz sank lower in his seat, as the engine of the plane started up. “I don’t understand how two people who are so smart can be so bloody stupid,” Hunter hissed over the noise. “She’s upset, _you total spoon_ , because you said that a guy who was in a friends with benefits relationship with a girl, wouldn’t give a shit if she went on a date with someone else. She thinks you were talking about you and her!”

  
“I didn’t say that, when did I say that?!” Fitz asked incredulously.

  
“When she was saying we should tell Trip about Skye going out with Ward’s brother,” Hunter replied in frustration.

  
“But I was talking about Trip!” Fitz whispered forcefully, as the plane started to move. “I specifically mentioned him by name and everything, I wasn’t talking about us!”

  
“Yes, but she thinks you were talking about his situation from your own perspective,” Hunter explained wearily. “You said he and Skye were ‘just friends with benefits’ so you didn’t think he’d be bothered. You and Jemma are ‘just friends with benefits’ as well, don’t forget, so now she thinks that you wouldn’t be bothered either.”

  
“But I…I didn’t mean…she thinks…?” Fitz’s sentence trailed off as his brain began to piece all this together.

  
“Yes,” Hunter replied with an emphatic nod. “She does.”

  
“ _Nooooo!_ ” Fitz’s eyes widened in horror and he stared over at where Jemma was laughing a little too loudly at something Agent Scott had said, to Scott’s apparent bemusement. “I don’t want her to go out with someone else!” he hissed at Hunter. “I would hate that, it would be awful!”

  
“Well, so now you have no option,” Hunter replied cheerfully. “You’re damned if you do, and damned if you don’t.”

  
“What do you mean?” Fitz whispered at him.

  
Just then, the jet lifted off, and they both leaned back, pausing the conversation until they were in the air. As the plane righted itself, Hunter leaned over and spoke into Fitz’s ear. “Now you _have_ to tell her how you feel,” he said. “You didn’t want to tell her because you were afraid you were going to lose her, but now you _are_ going to lose her if you don’t.”

  
Realisation hit Fitz like a wave knocking him to the ground, and his stomach roiled as the truth sank into his bones. Hunter was right. He had no other choice. He either had to be honest with her, or end up like Trip. As he recalled Trip’s situation, he suddenly remembered the task he’d been assigned in that regard. He unbuckled his seat belt.

  
“Where are you going?” Hunter asked him in alarm. “I didn’t mean tell her right now, in front of the whole plane!”

  
“No, I just remembered that I have to talk to Trip,” Fitz replied.

  
“Now?!” Hunter asked incredulously. _“While he’s flying the plane?!”_

  
“Well, no, that’s a good point,” Fitz said, hesitating. He thought about it for a moment. “No, he needs to know before we land in Chicago,” he said decisively. “You were right, he needs to be prepared. If this catches him off-guard, it could jeopardise the mission.”

  
“If it catches him off-guard right now, it could jeopardise our safety!” Hunter argued.

  
Fitz jiggled his legs and twisted his hands while he thought quickly. Then he glanced over at where Jemma was animatedly explaining something to Agent Scott, who was nodding politely. He turned back to Hunter. “No, Trip’s a good pilot and if it were me, I’d want to know as soon as possible, not five minutes before I’m going to see her again,” he replied. He walked up to the front of the plane, noticing Jemma’s head turning to watch him, out of the corner of his eye. He clambered into the front seat beside Trip.

  
“Hey man,” Trip greeted him. “You coming to keep me company for this flight?”

  
“Actually, I have to tell you something, Trip,” Fitz began.

  
Trip glanced quickly at him, before returning his attention to the displays in front of him. “Oh, yeah?” he asked curiously. “What’s that?”

  
“If I give you some bad news, you’re not going to crash the plane, are you?” Fitz asked him anxiously.

  
“Oh, my god, is it my mother?” Trip asked in a panic, turning to look at him. “Did something happen to my mother?” The plane took a lurch.

  
“ _Jesus Christ, Fitz!_ ” he heard Hunter shouting behind them.

  
“No, no,” Fitz cried hurriedly, “your mother’s fine, Trip. Well…at least, as far as I know. I mean…what I have to tell you is not about your mother.”

  
“Oh, thank god,” Trip breathed, as the plane steadied again.

  
“It’s about Skye,” Fitz continued. Trip didn’t respond, but Fitz saw the muscles working in his face.

  
“Is she alright?” Trip asked in a neutral tone.

  
“Again…as far as I know,” Fitz replied, wishing he’d checked on the exact state of health of both Skye and Trip’s mother before he’d started this conversation. “It’s just…I know about you and her.”

  
“Oh,” Trip responded. He kept staring straight ahead.

  
“I saw you two together in Malta,” Fitz said. “Me and Jemma both.”

  
“Ah.” Trip gave a slight nod. “We may have been a little indiscreet,” he admitted sheepishly.

  
“The problem is that Jemma was just talking to her on the phone before we left the base,” Fitz went on, “and it seems that…well… Ward’s brother, he’s asked her out. And…she said yes. I just thought you should know that before we get there.” He waited anxiously for the plane to lurch again, but thankfully, it stayed steady. He looked at Trip’s face.

His jaw was clenched, but otherwise he appeared unmoved.

  
“Okay,” he eventually replied. “Thank you for letting me know, Fitz.”

  
Fitz stared at him in wonder. “How do you do that?” he asked.

  
“Do what?” Trip turned to frown at him.

  
“Stay so calm,” Fitz replied. “I just told you something that must no doubt be incredibly hurtful, and yet you barely react at all.”

  
Trip stared ahead again and shrugged. “Skye and I have an understanding, Fitz,” he replied. “She’s free to date whomever she wants. It’s none of my business.”

  
“See, you say that, but I don’t believe you,” Fitz replied. “Because you’re calm but I can see that it’s clearly bothering you.”

  
“I’m a Shield agent,” Trip said. “I don’t let my personal feelings get in the way of Shield business."

  
“But you’re allowed to have them, Trip,” Fitz reasoned with him. “It is okay to feel things. You are human after all, Shield agent or not.”

  
“Listen, I knew the rules when I got into this thing with Skye,” Trip answered him, as he tapped some buttons on the dashboard. “I didn’t expect anything from her, and I’ve no right to be upset now.”

  
“Did you ever tell her how you felt?” Fitz asked him.

  
Trip barked a laugh at that. “No, I did not!” he replied emphatically.

  
“Why not?”

  
“Because I knew she didn’t want to hear it,” Trip replied somewhat bitterly. “Right from the get-go, she’s been keeping me at arm’s length. It’s always just sex, she leaves straight after; she gets uncomfortable if I try to show any affection. I mean, she’ll flirt with me, yeah, and when we were in Malta, pretending to be a couple, I thought maybe…well, she was convincing, you know?” Fitz nodded. He remembered all too vividly how nauseating Skye and Trip had been together. Trip shrugged. “But after that thing with Ward in the hangar…I don’t know…she was distant again,” he continued. “Then after we got back here, she became obsessed with researching this Lincoln guy. I don’t know, man,” he sighed. “Ward really did a number on her, and because of him, I’ve just never been able to reach her. And I don’t know if this thing with his brother has something to do with what happened with Ward, or not - like maybe she wants him to be the guy she thought Ward was or something like that. Either way, I understood what she wanted from me and I didn’t push.”

  
Fitz thought for a moment, taking this all in. “But if you never told her how you felt, maybe she thinks that you’re not interested? Because when she told Jemma about going out with Lincoln, Jemma asked about you, and Skye told her that you wouldn’t care. So maybe she’d feel differently if she knew you did.”

  
Trip sighed deeply at that. “Trust me, man, Skye doesn’t want me to have feelings for her. This much I know. And however this thing with this Ward guy goes down, I still want to be there for her as a friend. I don’t want to blow that. Thanks for the concern, though, I appreciate it. But I’m a professional, Fitz, I can handle this.”

  
“I don’t know, Trip,” Fitz responded thoughtfully. “Sometimes we think we know what a person’s feeling, but we really have no idea unless we ask. And they have no idea how we’re feeling, unless we tell them. We don’t all have a damn mind-reading device. And misunderstandings can cause a lot of hurt,” he added regretfully.

  
Trip gave him an impressed smile. “That is deep, man,” he said. “Seriously. That is some wise shit!” He laughed, and Fitz smiled bashfully. “It ain’t always true, though,” Trip went on, his tone becoming sombre again. There are some things that are better left unsaid.”

  
“Why, Trip? What’s the worst that can happen?” Fitz challenged him, surprising even himself as he said it. “She can reject you?” Trip looked at him in astonishment. “So what if she does, at least now you know, and so does she. Maybe you’ll never get over her, maybe you’ll always feel the same way, but at least you won’t spend the rest of your life wondering ‘what if’? And isn’t that the biggest regret to have? That you let something good get away because you were too afraid to _try_?”

  
As his outburst came to an end, Fitz sucked his bottom lip into his mouth to steady himself. He was in shock. He hadn’t known he thought any of this until he said it. And as Trip stared at him, clearly flabbergasted, Fitz realized that he’d been talking to himself as much as to Trip. Before Trip could speak, Fitz suddenly clambered up over the seat and marched down the plane to where Jemma was sitting with Agent Scott.


	25. Distraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Umm...all hell breaks loose, is the only appropriate summary I can think of for this chapter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are spoilers, I suppose, but this chapter has trigger warnings for blood, guns and airplane hijacking.

Five minutes after Jemma started flirting with Agent Scott, she realized what a terrible idea it was. She had gotten the reaction that she wanted from Fitz, but then Hunter had pulled him down into his seat, so she was stuck having to make conversation with the rather laborious Scott, in whom she had absolutely zero interest. Also, she was very bad at flirting and she felt like an idiot. Still, at least talking to him distracted her from the fact that she was sitting in a very cramped space opposite the man who had casually ripped her life to shreds not half an hour ago, as if it were nothing. She had to keep talking to Scott, because if she stopped talking, she’d start crying again. When Fitz got up and climbed into the cockpit to talk to Trip, the melancholy thought crossed Jemma’s mind that this was the second time today that he would break someone’s heart.

  
When she’d woken earlier that morning, her body aching pleasantly from the exertions of the night before, Fitz was still sleeping beside her, one arm and leg draped across her naked body, his head tucked into the crook of her neck and his hair adorably tousled. As she turned her head to look down at him, she was struck by the thought that his face was the most precious sight in the world to her. It crossed her mind that she never wanted to wake up any other way. She knew then for certain that she was deeply and irreparably in love with her best friend, and most likely would be for the rest of her life. This realization dismayed her beyond words. She had no idea how Fitz felt about what was happening between them. The sex had been incredible last night, and certainly more intimate than anything she’d shared with anyone else before, but his reticence about having sex in the first place had left her feeling very uncertain about what it was he wanted.

  
Then Fitz had woken up and he’d been quiet and distant. He’d made an excuse to go to the lab early, and Jemma couldn’t help feeling like he regretted the sex. It had been bugging her all morning, and then his response when she’d told him and Hunter about Trip …he’d been _so baffled_ as to why she and Hunter were worried about Skye’s date with Lincoln. It appeared to be beyond him that Trip would care about Skye going out with someone else. Jemma felt something die inside her. If she wasn’t an expert in human anatomy, she would have suspected it was her heart. He clearly had no problem with the idea of her dating someone else – in fact, if anything, it seemed like he’d be glad to get rid of her. It was at that moment it dawned on her what a horrendous mistake this whole thing had been. She had clearly been in love with Fitz this whole time without realizing it, she had engineered this whole situation because she couldn’t just admit that to herself, and now he was losing interest and she was losing the love of her life - and her best friend to boot. She felt like she couldn’t breathe. Then the next thing the alarm went off, and she was actually grateful for it, because at least there was some emergency to respond to and she didn’t have to deal with the fact that she was in unbearable pain. That was until Coulson ordered her and Fitz to go to Chicago with Trip, and she remembered that apart from everything else, Fitz was still her professional partner and she still had to work with him. When they got changed in their room, she finally understood why Fitz had thought knocking down the wall between their rooms was a bad idea. There was no barrier between them anymore, nothing to protect her from the gut-wrenching truth that she was in love with someone who didn’t feel the same way about her.

  
And then he was following her up the corridor, demanding to know why she was upset, and she couldn’t explain it, or she would have to face rejection from him, she would have to face losing him forever. He wanted to know what he’d done wrong, and it broke her because she was the one who had done everything wrong, and all he had done was give her everything she asked for – except the one thing she really wanted, the one thing he _couldn’t_ give her. She had been such a fool and she had only herself to blame – she had broken her own heart by practically forcing him into this ridiculous situation. And she could see the shock on his face when she all but said that to him, and she knew that _he knew_ that she was in love with him, and nothing would ever be the same between them again. But then Agent Bryant had caught her off-guard, grabbing the cases right out of her hands. She had never liked Bryant, he always made her uncomfortable, but he had surprised her in that moment and she hadn’t known how to respond, so she just gave him the cases and politely thanked him. What she hadn’t expected was the way Fitz responded. The way he had exploded at Agent Scott shocked and confused her at first. And then it angered her. If he wasn’t in love with her, then what did he care if another man flirted with her? How dare he be so possessive when he didn’t want her anymore?

  
The logical part of her brain was telling her that when the anger and hurt subsided, she would be absolutely mortified at how she had lost all control in front of all those other agents. And she knew she would probably cringe when she thought about what a scene she had made on this plane, pathetically flirting with Agent Scott in a rather obvious attempt to annoy Fitz. But right now the logical part of her brain was too quiet to be properly heard, while the pain was still shouting. It was one thing that Fitz didn’t feel the same way about her, but it was another thing entirely that he insinuated that she had thrown herself at Agent Bryant like some sort of… _floozy_. If that was what he thought of her, now that she’d been sleeping with him - after she had trusted him with her body and her most intimate desires… _last night she had let him use her vibrator on her, for god’s sake!_ She had never done that with anyone before. He seemed to love it at the time, he’d appeared to be incredibly turned on, but now she wondered if had changed his opinion of her, seeing her like that. For Fitz to think she was flirting when she thanked a man who had helped her with heavy cases, and especially after what she had done with Fitz the night before – well, he mustn’t think very highly of her morals anymore. She had never expected that of him, and she was beyond hurt by it. So if it pissed him off seeing her throw herself at burly specialists, then by god, she was going to throw herself at every single man on the base, if it meant that he would feel even a fraction of the hurt and humiliation he had caused her.

  
But at the moment Fitz was sitting up front with Trip, so he wasn’t even watching her anymore, and Agent Scott had suddenly become very interested in the contents of his backpack, which was just as well, because she had run out of things to talk to him about. So she was left staring into space, trying to ignore the fact that everyone else on the plane was sneaking surreptitious glances at her - apart from Hunter and Agent Valenti, who were both trying to follow the conversation between Fitz and Trip at the front. Hunter looked concerned but he wasn’t close enough to actually hear anything. Marta Valenti was though, and she appeared to be listening in with an open curiosity Jemma found quite vulgar. It occurred to her, although it hadn’t actually registered with her at the time, that Marta had watched her heated exchange with Fitz with similar fascination. Jemma was quite irritated by that. She had considered Marta a friend, and it irked her that Marta should find her embarrassing public spat with Fitz quite so entertaining. It was rather too late, however, to try and reclaim any sense of dignity on this quinjet, and so Jemma just had to brazen it out until they landed. Then Fitz got up from the seat beside Trip and clambered over it. Jemma’s stomach lurched as she realized that he was striding very purposefully towards her.

  
“Agent Scott, would you mind swapping seats with me for a moment?” he said, as he stood in front of them. “I need to speak to my partner about something.”

  
“Oh, for god’s sake, Fitz!” Jemma snapped, rolling her eyes. She was not ready to speak to him, and she definitely did not want to do it on this plane, not with all these inquisitive eyes upon them.

  
“Uhm…,” Scott replied, looking uncertainly from one to the other.

  
“Never mind him, Agent Scott, sit where you are,” Jemma replied icily, as she grabbed his arm to keep him there. “Agent Fitz’s partner _doesn’t particularly care to speak to him_ right now.”

  
“Well, she doesn’t have to speak, she just has to listen,” Fitz said testily. “And it’s up to Agent Scott if he wants to listen as well, or if he wants to get up and give me his seat.”

  
“Seriously, guys, are we going to do this right now?!” an incredulous Hunter asked in a low voice, leaning forward from where he sat. Jemma shook her head emphatically as if to indicate that this particular spectacle had nothing to do with her.

  
“Yes, yes, we are, Hunter,” Fitz snapped. “We’re going to do this right now, and everyone on the plane can just deal with it,” he added loudly, looking around. Jemma gaped at him in horror. The other agents all looked in different directions, suddenly becoming interested either in the mechanisms of their seatbelts or in various spots on the walls of the plane. Hunter groaned and put his face in his hands.

  
“Okay,” the beleaguered Scott said, jumping up quickly from his seat. He had the look of a man who just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. “Please, take my seat, Agent Fitz. I have to talk to Agent Triplett about something anyway.”

  
Jemma sank down on her seat, using her hand to try and hide her face. Fitz plonked himself down on the seat beside her.

  
“I can’t believe you,” she hissed at him. “I’ve never been so embarrassed…”

  
“Shut up and listen to me,” Fitz said. “I need to say this and you need to hear it.” Jemma was affronted. There was nothing she could do to escape this situation. With her arms folded, she stared huffily in front of her. Fitz ploughed on regardless, speaking low in her ear. “You told me that Skye and Trip were friends with benefits,” he murmured, “and that they had this great arrangement where they had sex, but they were still friends and nothing had changed between them, and it was all very casual.” Jemma frowned and turned to look at him, baffled as to where he was going with this. “That’s what you said,” he said with an emphatic nod, looking directly into her eyes. He shook his head as he continued. “You never said anything to me about Trip being in love with her or any of that. I believed that Trip and Skye’s arrangement was very different from our situation which is why I said that Trip wouldn’t be bothered by Skye going out with Ward’s brother. I was talking specifically about them, based on what you had told me, I was definitely not speaking from my own perspective.”

  
“Wait…what?!” Jemma answered, as her arms dropped to her sides. The implication of his words was exploding in her brain. “You thought…you thought Trip and Skye’s arrangement was _very different_ from our situation? I don’t…what do you mean?” she said, faltering as she shifted in her chair to face him.

  
“Because I very definitely _would_ be bothered if you went out with someone else,” Fitz said quickly, and suddenly she saw that he was incredibly nervous, despite his assertive attitude. “As you’ve clearly seen,” he added sheepishly. “I can barely handle a guy offering to carry your cases, or you flirting very badly with someone, even if it was only to make me jealous.”

  
Jemma opened her mouth to speak, but immediately closed it again as no words came to mind. She was utterly confused. “So…you don’t want me to go out with anyone else? But you don’t want to sleep with me anymore either?”

  
“Sssshhhh!” Fitz looked mortified, and Jemma realized that she’d said the last part rather loudly as several heads whipped round at her words. She sank down in her seat again. “I never said that,” Fitz hissed at her.

  
“You said you missed just being friends,” Jemma hissed back at him. “What am I supposed to think?”

  
“No, I said I missed you, Jemma, there’s a difference,” he muttered. “I said I missed just hanging out with you and talking and watching TV. I thought in order to do that, we had to avoid having sex, but now I realise…” He sighed deeply and Jemma leaned forward in curiosity.

  
“Now you realise what?” she asked.

  
“Now I realise that there’s no reason why we can’t do both,” he continued, somewhat bashfully, his earlier bravado seeming to have dissipated. “I said I wanted us to be together as friends last night, but I think that what I really wanted…I mean, I know that what I really wanted… was for us to go…on a date.”

  
“A date?” Jemma was floored. She had not been expecting this.

  
“Yes, you know, like dinner,” he went on, not looking at her now. “I was wondering if you wanted to go to dinner with me.”

  
“Oh!” Her brain seemed to be working uncharacteristically slowly, because she was having trouble processing this. She idly wondered if this is what it was like to think at normal speed. “I mean…yes,” she said. “I would…like that.”

  
Fitz’s face lit up and he took a presumably relieved breath before he spoke. “Right,” he said. “Good. Okay.” He sat back in his seat, still grinning to himself but seemingly unsure of what to do now.

Jemma could barely contain her excitement. In the space of a morning, she had realized that she was in love, then had her heart steamrollered, and now it had been restored again as it turned out that the object of her affections wasn’t rejecting her after all, but had been trying to ask her out. She bit back a delighted smile, sneaking a glance at Fitz before composing herself as if nothing had just transpired between them. She glimpsed Hunter winking at Fitz and giving him a thumbs up from across the aisle, however, and her face grew hot as she realized that the entire plane knew that they had just arranged a date. Such a thing was a blatant breach of protocol, although she was fairly certain that no-one on the plane would report them, given that there were always all sorts of rumours about specialists hooking up with each other after missions. The science division generally did not have a reputation for illicit amorous trysts, however, and she supposed that the two people running the science division having a very public quarrel before also very publicly arranging to go on a date was not perhaps the most dignified way to comport themselves. It made her squirm to think of how they had just brought their division into some disrepute. She was slightly concerned also, about how closely Agent Valenti appeared to be watching them again. Jemma would have thought Marta trustworthy, but she seemed overly interested in her interactions with Fitz in a way that made her nervous. She glanced over at Marta, and recoiled in shock when she saw the almost malevolent way that the communications agent was sneering at her. It briefly crossed Jemma’s mind that perhaps Marta had a crush on Fitz, when Marta suddenly stood up and raised her arm. There was a collective noise of alarm on the quinjet, and a scrambling for weapons before it registered in Jemma’s mind that Agent Marta Valenti was holding a gun and that it was aimed at the back of Trip’s head. Jemma also became aware that Fitz had thrown an arm across her body as if to protect her. She glanced down at it, before looking up again to see that the other specialists on the plane had all aimed their weapons at Marta.

  
“Everyone put your weapons down, or I shoot the pilot and we all go down,” Marta said coldly. “I disabled all of your parachutes except my own whilst I was doing inventory, so you really don’t want that to happen,” she added.

  
As the reality of their situation sunk in, everyone slowly lowered their guns. Hunter swore loudly. Jemma’s heart began thumping violently in her chest.

  
“Marta, what on earth are you doing?” she cried.

  
“Nothing to worry about, Agent Simmons, we’re just going to make a stop is all,” Marta replied sweetly. “Now be a good girl and pick up everyone’s weapons and bring them to me, okay?”

  
She heard Fitz suck in a breath beside her, and his arm tightened across her body.

  
“Now, Agent Simmons, and don’t get any ideas about firing one at me, or I’ll shoot your boyfriend as well!” Marta snapped at her, as she raised her other arm and aimed a gun at Fitz.

  
Jemma’s stomach hit the ground and her legs buckled slightly beneath her. She swallowed and nodded forced reassurance at Fitz, gently pushing his arm away to get up and gather the guns.

  
“What the hell are you playing at, Agent Valenti?” Trip called out in a warning tone. “What are you even doing on this plane anyway?”

  
“What do you mean, what is she doing here?” Fitz cried in alarm. “Isn’t she on your team, Trip?”

  
“No, I thought she was with you guys!” Trip exclaimed. “I thought you needed a hacker for some reason! _Damn it_!”

  
Marta smirked. “Yeah, I thought it was pretty risky, sneaking on here and hoping that no-one would ask me what I was doing, but luckily these two provided enough of a distraction that no-one really noticed me,” she said, gesturing towards Fitz and Jemma. Jemma faltered as she gathered guns into her arms, and closed her eyes as the horror of what they had done roiled in her stomach, making her feeling sick. She mentally cursed herself for her absolute stupidity before she opened her eyes in time to see Fitz bite back a curse and bang the back of his head against the side of the plane in self-reproach. She knew what he was thinking. They had let their personal feelings get in the way of the mission, and now their idiotic fighting and flirting had put the whole team in danger.

  
Marta prodded the back of Trip’s head with her gun. “I’m going to need you to land the plane,” she told him. “Start your descent right now. We have a passenger to pick up.”

  
Without another word, Trip eased the quinjet into a descent, although the waves of silent rage coming off him were tangible. Jemma dropped the guns she had gathered up at Marta’s feet, before sitting back down and strapping herself in. Fitz was grinding his jaw beside her and she knew he was furious at himself. He shouldn’t be, she thought bitterly - it was all her fault. She was the one who had started this whole fight with Fitz and caused the spectacle that had provided Marta with the distraction she needed to carry out her hijack. Trembling, she reached across and took Fitz’s hand. He squeezed hers in return, as the plane dropped lower to the ground. His eyes met hers, silently telling her that no matter what happened they were in this together. She had no idea why, given that they were still completely powerless, but it made her feel better as the quinjet touched down and eventually came to a standstill. Marta then barked at Trip to lower the ramp, before ordering him and Agent Scott out of the cockpit with their hands on their heads. The ramp came down to reveal a field, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, with an SUV parked in the middle of it. As Jemma watched, the door opened and Ward got out. Fitz instantly dropped her hand. She wasn’t hurt – she knew that he wasn’t willing to give Ward another opportunity to use the two of them against each other. She watched Ward walking towards the jet, unsurprised that he was behind their hijacking, and yet furious that he had outwitted them yet again. There was no sign of Storch, however, and Jemma wondered if he was even still alive. Ward strutted up the ramp casually brandishing a gun, wearing that smirk that always made her want to punch him in the face. He stood with his legs apart in the middle of the jet, just in front of where Hunter sat, and proudly surveyed his captives.

  
“Well done, Agent,” he said to Marta. “Excellent work! So, where are we headed?”

  
“Chicago, sir,” Marta responded.

  
“Chicago? Really?” Ward replied. “So that’s where my long-lost brother is hanging out these days.” He looked around the quinjet. “No Skye? Or May?”

  
“They’re already there,” Marta informed him.

  
“Ah, excellent,” Ward replied. “I’m looking forward to seeing them. It’s going to be one hell of a reunion weekend.” His eyes lighted on Fitz and Jemma. “Hey guys,” he said with a grin. “Did you miss me?”

  
“Nobody ever misses you, Ward, you cretin,” Fitz retorted angrily.

  
“Now that hurts my feelings, Fitz,” Ward replied. “We used to be so close, you and I, like brothers. What happened to that?”

  
“You have got to be kidding me!” Fitz spat in astonishment. “ _You_ happened to that, you moron! When you betrayed us!”

  
“That wasn’t personal, Fitz,” Ward said in a wounded tone. “I was following orders. But now I’m free. Nobody gives me orders anymore. That could be you as well, buddy. You could work with me, be my partner. Just think about what you and I could do together.”

  
Fitz glowered at him. “I would never work with you. I _despise_ you and everything you stand for.”

  
Ward sighed dramatically. “I don’t think you’re seeing the big picture here, Fitz. Why be Coulson’s lap dog, when you could have everything you wanted.” He pointed at Jemma. “Even her.”

  
The casual violence of the remark caused Jemma to flinch. She could feel Fitz bristle beside her.

  
“Leave her out of this,” Fitz growled.

  
Ward reached inside his jacket and pulled out the book that contained the circlets. He brandished it at Fitz. “Are you sure, Fitz?” he asked. “What if I gave you these? You could use them on Simmons here. Finally get to see what goes on inside that pretty little head of hers. Wouldn’t you like to know how she really sees you, Fitz? Wouldn’t you like to know what makes her tick? _What turns her on?_ You could be able to give her everything she wants, and she would never know how you’d done it.”

  
“You’re disgusting!” Jemma spat at him. She wasn’t sure if she was more horrified at the way Ward thought, or by the fact that he actually thought Fitz would be the kind of person who would be tempted by that. As it was Fitz was staring at Ward in complete abhorrence.

  
“Is that why you want the circlets, Ward?” Fitz eventually asked in an appalled voice. “Because you want to use them as some sort…mind-control? Or date-rape drug? That is twisted, even for you! And the idea that I would…Jesus, I feel sick, I really do,” he spluttered.

  
“Grant doesn’t need to do that to get women,” Marta responded viciously, her eyes gleaming dangerously. “But obviously you have no idea what your little girlfriend here wants, or obviously you wouldn’t have pissed her off so much that she started throwing herself at other men in front of you!”

  
“Oh, is that so?” Ward said, looking with interest from Marta to Fitz to Jemma. “Do tell!”

  
“It seems they’ve been sleeping together, Grant,” Marta reported. “They had a lover’s tiff when we first got on the plane, but they appear to have made it up."

Jemma’s stomach clenched as she realized how much of themselves they had revealed. Now Ward had even more information about their personal lives that could be used against them.

  
“Indeed,” Ward said, sounding impressed. “Well, I gotta say, Fitz, I did not know you had it in you.”

  
Despite the fact she knew him better than anyone, Jemma wouldn’t have thought Fitz capable of the amount of hate his eyes were currently shooting at Ward.

  
“That’s why this thing was so easy,” Marta crowed. “Even our fearless leader here was preoccupied by matters of the heart,” she continued, nodding towards Trip. “I overheard him confiding in Agent Fitz. It seems he’s all cut up over the fact that your _ex_ is now dating your brother.”

  
There was some unidentifiable emotion that flashed in Ward’s eyes at this, and Jemma saw him momentarily grind his jaw before he composed himself again. It was suddenly clear - and astonishing - to her that Ward still had feelings for Skye. What hadn’t escaped her attention either, was the emphasis that Marta had put on the word ‘ex’. She had spat it, almost as if it were distasteful to her.

  
“Well, you’re quite the office gossip, aren’t you, Marta?” she called out. “Who knew? We really should have been more careful to keep our business private, around you. Especially when you’re such a dark horse about your own love life.” She looked at Ward as she said this and he raised his eyebrows as though he was taken aback by Jemma’s boldness. “Did you ever think, Marta,” she said as she stared Ward in the eye, “that maybe Ward used those circlets on you? That maybe he’s manipulating you in exactly the way he told Fitz he should do to me? And that’s why you’re doing this? That’s why you’re betraying everything you stand for?”

  
“ _I don’t stand for Shield!_ ,” Marta suddenly screeched at her. “Shield has done _nothing_ for me! And I know Grant didn’t use those things on me. He never needed to – because I was with him when he took them from you!”

  
Jemma frowned at this, but before she had a chance to process Marta’s words, Hunter suddenly leapt on Ward from behind. Marta fired her gun, and in sickening slow motion, Jemma saw Hunter go down, blood spurting from the underside of his chest. She heard Fitz scream beside her, and without thinking, she dropped to her knees and crawled towards Hunter’s prone body as another shot rang out. She felt a weight drop down on top of her, pushing her to the ground, before she had quite reached Hunter. She knew it was Fitz, and for a split second she thought he had been shot too, before she felt his hand push the back of her head down and she realized that he was covering her body with his own. Jemma glanced up from underneath him, and saw blood bubbling out of the corner of Hunter's mouth, his skin waxy and his eyes glassing over. She tried to squirm out from under Fitz's weight to get to Hunter, but he was too heavy. She was vaguely aware of a struggle going on around her, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw another agent fall. Then Fitz whispered in her ear to run when he moved. He got up off her, and dived towards Hunter, grabbing him by the hands and attempting to drag him off the quinjet. Jemma tried to clamber to her feet to help, but she saw Trip get there first. He lifted Hunter’s feet, and he and Fitz clumsily hauled Hunter off the quinjet, dodging a shot as they ran. Thinking quickly, Jemma leapt to her feet and dived for the DWARF case, managing to pull it free from the belt securing it, as a few of the agents fought with Ward and Marta beside her. It vaguely registered with her that Marta was an amazing fighter for a comms agent. Jemma had never known that about her. She could hear Fitz screaming her name from outside the quinjet. Grabbing the case, as well as her own and Fitz’s backpacks which were sitting beside it, Jemma ducked her head, and ran down the ramp, her eyes closed in fear as she prayed she wouldn’t get shot. There were at least two bodies lying on the floor of the jet, both of them wearing Shield tac gear. The other agents were now following her, as Ward and Marta fired at them. As Jemma reached the grass, the ramp began to rise up.

  
“What the hell were you doing, Jemma?” she could hear Fitz screaming at her, as he ran out from behind the SUV. He looked terrified. “What the _fuck_ did you go back for our bags for?! Or the DWARFs?!” He dashed towards her, grabbing the luggage out of her hands and pushing her towards the car. The quinjet took off with Ward and Marta, and the bodies of two Shield agents inside. It seemed Trip and Fitz had managed to get Hunter behind the car, where they had laid him down on the grass. Jemma knelt down beside him. He had been shot in side of the chest, just under his bullet-proof vest, seemingly at the same time as his arm had been raised. He was bleeding profusely, his body twitching and his breathing laboured. She pressed her hands down firmly over his wound, desperately trying to stem the flow of his blood. Trip moved to her side and pressed his hands down over hers.

  
“C’mon, man,” Jemma heard him whisper insistently at Hunter.

  
"Fitz," Jemma screamed at him. "Open the DWARF case now!"

Fitz was clutching his stomach, staring wild-eyed at Hunter, before he looked up at her uncomprehending. "The DWARF case? What for?"

"Don't ask questions, Fitz!" she shouted. "Just do as I say.” Desperate times called for desperate measures, and Jemma knew that Hunter was going to die if she didn't do something quick. And stranded here as they were, with no medical team and no back-up, there was only one thing she could try. The problem was she had no idea whether or not it would work.

Fitz flicked the DWARF case open. “Now, you see that small metal case there?” she asked him. He looked up at her, his face ghostly pale, before he reached into the case and grabbed it. “Open that, and insert the orange vial that’s in there, into the syringe beside it.”

“What is it?” Fitz asked her, his voice shaky.

She shook her head at him. “Hurry, Fitz, and do it. We don’t have time.” With trembling hands, he inserted the vial into the syringe and handed it to Jemma. Slipping her hands out from underneath Trip’s she removed them from Hunter’s chest and took the syringe from Fitz. Without hesitation, she injected the fluid into Hunter's carotid. He immediately stilled, his body becoming cold and his eyes glassing over.

"Hunter!" Fitz gasped in panic. "Hunter!" He grabbed his face with both hands, and stared at him, before turning to look at Jemma. "He's not breathing! I can't feel a pulse! What is that stuff?! What did you do?"

Jemma didn't respond, but turned back to the DWARF case and reached for Doc. Fitz was near-hysterical, calling Hunter's name over and over, and Trip was trying to restrain Fitz with tears in his eyes. Jemma coolly set Doc hovering over Hunter's head, and lifted her tablet out of the case, her fingers quickly jabbing at the screen. She gazed at it for a moment, her forehead creased in concentration before she sat back on her heels with a sigh of relief as she saw what she was looking for.

"Epsilon frequency brain waves," she sighed. "His bleeding has stopped but he's not dead, he's in a state of suspended animation. It worked!"

“ _No way_!” Trip whispered in astonishment, as he watched Hunter. He looked up at Jemma. “For real?!”

Jemma nodded, momentarily unable to speak.

"It...what??" Fitz stared at her. He leaned over and grabbed the tablet off her, studying it carefully. He lifted his head and gazed at her in wonder. "Jemma! How did you do that?!"

"He wasn't going to live, Fitz," she said. "I had to try something, and it was the only thing I could think of."

Fitz leant across Hunter's body and reached for the syringe lying at Jemma's side. "What is this?" Trip leaned forward to study the vial as well.

"It's your idea," she said to Fitz. "For incapacitating powered people? I've been thinking about some kind of weapon that could encase people in amber or ice, but I didn't know how to do that without killing them. So I stopped thinking in terms of encasing them, and started trying to create a formula which would recreate the effects of suspended animation. I studied the results of tests that were done on the biochemistry of Indian yogis who are reportedly able to put themselves into such a state via mediation...anyway the point is, I had come up with this formula, and it was in the DWARF case because I had been using the DWARFs to run simulations, but I didn't have anything concrete yet...I'll be honest, Fitz, I had no idea if it would work, but as I said, I had to try something."

Fitz was awestruck. "This is incredible, Jemma," he breathed. "You're incredible! You saved his life!"

“Girl, you are something else,” Trip exclaimed, shaking his head in amazement. “See, I told you you were a miracle worker!” He laughed gleefully.

Jemma frowned and shook her head. "No, let's not get ahead of ourselves. He’s not out of the woods yet. I've just bought us some time so that we can get him back to Shield, where they can operate on him."

Fitz nodded. "Right," he said soberly. "So we need to call for a med evac?"

Jemma made a sound of agreement. She was suddenly feeling nauseous.

“We all need an evac,” Trip said. “Good thing I remember the co-ordinates from just before we landed.” He stood up and took out his phone to call the Playground, but frowned at it as soon as he looked at the screen. “What the hell?!” he muttered as he waved it about. He looked up. “Does anyone else have reception?”

Jemma and Fitz both got to their feet. The other agents standing around them had taken out their phones and were holding them up in the air as they wandered around. Jemma took her own phone out of her pocket and as she did so, an overpowering stench of iron hit her nostrils. She looked down and realized that her hands were still covered in Hunter’s blood. She felt light-headed and a little unsteady on her feet all of a sudden. There was no signal on her phone, and judging by the shaking heads and devices being raised into the air, there was none on anyone else’s either. She knelt down and frantically started trying to wipe her hands on the grass.

“Oh hell no!” Trip exclaimed in horror. “Do not tell me there is no cell reception here!” He stopped for a moment, staring into space as if in thought. “Right,” he said eventually, as he’d reached a decision. “We’ve already lost two men. Hunter needs a Shield medical team, Ward is on his way to Chicago, and Skye and May are there without back-up. We need to get to a phone and call Coulson for a med evac, and we need to get our asses to Chicago asap. My team,” he continued, looking round at them, “we’re going to take the SUV and continue on to Chicago. We’re about an hour away.” He turned back to Fitz and Jemma. “You two stay here with Hunter. As soon as we get a cell reception, we’ll call Coulson, get him to send someone to pick you guys up. I’ll call May as well, warn her about Ward. Our only saving grace is that neither Ward nor Valenti know where exactly in Chicago Lincoln lives or works…yet.”

Fitz and Jemma nodded their agreement of his plan at him, both of them too worn out to speak.

“Okay, guys,” Trip yelled at his team. “Time is of the essence. Let’s move out!” He and his team all clambered into the SUV and drove off, leaving Jemma and Fitz alone with an all-but-dead Hunter.


	26. The Evac

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Left on their own in the middle of nowhere with a gravely-injured Hunter in suspended animation, Jemma and Fitz come to a decision. Now all they have to do is convince their rescuers of their plan...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sincerely apologise for how long this update has taken. Life got severely in the way of any fic writing over the past month or so, but here at long last is your new chapter. Completely coincidentally however, since I started writing it over a month ago, there's a bit of Bobbi-Hunter-Mack feels in this chapter, which might get more emotional than I had intended after this week's episode! The good news is that the next chapter is almost finished, and I should be ready to update in a few days :-)

As Trip drove off in the SUV, Fitz gently closed Hunter’s eyes with his hand. He stared sadly down at his friend’s blue-tinged face. “Do you think they’ll be able to save him, Jemma?” he asked, the quiver in his voice piercing her heart. “When they get him back to the base?” 

“There is every chance that they will, Fitz,” she said in her best reassuring voice, despite her distinct lack of breath.  She flopped heavily back on the grass, suddenly feeling drained. “They’ll be able to stop the bleeding and take the bullet out and give him transfusions,” she continued as she leaned back on her hands.  “We’ve bought enough time to get him there now, and the fact that he’s in stasis should make the surgical procedure much simpler. The effects of the formula I gave him will wear off, but it should last a few hours at least. Although, I don’t think poor Bobbi will take the news well,” she added with a sigh. 

"No," Fitz agreed. "And it looks like we're also going to have to think about the fact there may be more people on the base who are Hydra. I still can't believe Agent Valenti was one of them." He shook his head sadly as he met Jemma’s eyes. "You knew her, Jemma. Did you ever suspect that she might do something like this? Hey, are you okay, by the way?" he asked suddenly as he peered at her face in concern. “You’ve gone very pale.” 

“I’m okay,” she assured him weakly. She was feeling anything but. She returned her attention to his previous question, shaking her head firmly in answer and then stopping as the action made her a little dizzy. "No, that's the thing, Fitz," she went on, although it seemed to take a great effort to speak all of a sudden. "This doesn't make sense at all. Marta's brother was a Shield agent as well. She looked up to him, it was because of him that she joined the Agency. And he was killed at the Hub on the day Shield fell. Marta hated Hydra. The only explanation I can come up with is that she was brainwashed." 

"Jesus!" Fitz breathed in horror. He stared down at the grass as he thought about it. “Ward can be pretty manipulative though. Maybe she’s just in love with him or something? After all, he says he’s not Hydra anymore.” 

“Well, for a start, I wouldn’t have thought Ward was Marta’s type,” Jemma replied. She shivered, feeling very cold all of a sudden. 

Fitz arched his eyebrow. “Isn’t he everyone’s type?” he replied with just a hint of resentment to his tone. 

“Pfffftttt, not mine!” Jemma protested. “He may be handsome, but handsome is as handsome does, as my grandmother used to say. And his handsome does betrayal, murder and mayhem, which is definitely not my thing. But I mean, I always thought Marta was gay. I was absolutely convinced she fancied Bobbi. Just shows you how wrong I was. Even so…would you hijack a plane full of your friends just because you were in love with someone?!” 

“It does seem a little extreme,” Fitz said uncertainly. 

“But there’s something else that doesn’t make sense,” Jemma continued, frowning as she clutched her now-spinning head in an attempt to steady it. “On the plane, Marta said something about how she was there when Ward took the circlets from us. But she wasn’t there. So what the hell was she talking about?” 

Fitz shook his head. “I don’t know. She seemed pretty crazy to me, Jemma. Maybe Ward really did use those things on her, and just told her she was there? I mean, did you hear what he said? That I should use them on you, read your mind and…” Fitz stopped and shuddered. 

“Ward doesn’t know you at all if he thinks you would do that, Fitz,” she said. Another wave of nausea washed over her suddenly, and a cold sweat erupted onto her skin. Clutching her stomach, she moved up onto her knees and leaned forward as she tried to slow her breathing. 

“Jemma, what’s the matter?” Fitz asked in a panicked voice, as he scrambled to get to her. “Are you alright?” 

"I’m okay, Fitz,” she said through her deep breaths. “I think it’s just the shock. The adrenalin.” 

Fitz knelt beside her and wrapped one arm around her. “Jesus, Jemma, you’re shaking,” he said in alarm. He tried to pull her tighter into himself, but as he did so, Jemma’s stomach turned and she instantly pushed away from him, falling onto her hands and knees as she puked onto the grass in front of her.

“Oh god!” Fitz’s voice came from behind. The next thing she felt his hand on her back, rubbing it as she spat out the last of the vomit from her mouth. “Okay, it’s okay, you’re okay,” he soothed her. “Like you say, it’s just the adrenalin making you sick.” She nodded and knelt back up, wiping her mouth with her sleeve. “Or it’s the blood,” Fitz said, his face wrinkling in distaste as he looked at her hand. He reached out and delicately grasped her wrist. “Don’t put that near your mouth.” He looked around. “We need to get you cleaned up and we need to get you warm.”

“My backpack,” Jemma said, gesturing to where Fitz had thrown it on the ground, as she suddenly remembered about it. Fitz grabbed it and brought it over to her, zipping it open as he did.

“What do you want out of this?” he asked.

“My toilet bag,” she replied. “My make-up wipes are in there, and my hand sanitizer. I can use those to clean my hands.”

Fitz took out the wipes and the sanitizer and passed them to her, and Jemma set about cleaning her hands. The violent shivering was making it difficult though. Fitz grabbed his own backpack and hunted about in it, before he fished out his hoodie. “Here,” he said to Jemma, “take off your vest and put this on.”

With mostly clean hands (although she would have to scrub her nails later), Jemma removed her bullet-proof vest and put Fitz’s hoodie on. The warmth and familiar scent of him enveloped her as she zipped it up, and she snuggled down into it with a sigh. She was feeling exhausted and incredibly thirsty and her mouth was dry and tasted of sick. All she wanted to do was lie down and go to sleep, but something was niggling at the back of her mind. She was worried about Skye and May in Chicago. And there was something not right about Marta Valenti but Jemma couldn’t put her finger on what it was. She was distracted however, by Fitz pulling his Academy sweatshirt out of his backpack as well.  Despite her exhaustion and weakness, she sighed as she realised that there had been no rhyme or reason to his packing. What he thought he needed both a hoodie and his sweatshirt for, she didn’t know, but she was nonetheless grateful for his lack of organisation.  He removed his own vest before pulling the sweatshirt on, and Jemma wondered if he was feeling cold as well. He sat down on the grass beside her, apparently deep in thought, and she snuggled into his side as he rubbed her back.

“How are you feeling now?” he eventually addressed Jemma.

“Okay,” she replied. “Tired. I need water. And I could murder a cup of tea.” Fitz gave a soft huff of laughter.

“I could be doing with more than tea,” he replied drily.  “Whisky would be more like it. But just hold on, okay, we’ll get you a cup of tea as soon as we get back to the base.”

“The base?” Jemma shook her head determinedly. “We can’t go back to the base, Fitz. The fact is we need to get to Chicago,” she went on. “That’s three times now that we haven’t seen Ward coming and he’s been able to ambush us. He’s always one step ahead, and this time, it was my fault. Marta was able to hijack the quinjet because of the distraction I caused by being such an idiot.” She grimaced and lowered her head as she remembered her embarrassing, petty behaviour on the quinjet. “And now two men are dead because of me. And Hunter…” Her words trailed off as her eyes filled up with tears.

“No, they’re not,” Fitz replied fiercely. “Those men are dead because of Ward, Jemma. You are not responsible for their deaths. Or what happened to Hunter. And Marta getting on the plane unnoticed…that was as much my fault as it was yours,” he added in shame. “We both behaved in a very unprofessional manner, and we endangered lives.” He sighed in deep regret.

“I suppose this is exactly why they have the anti-fraternisation rule in the first place,” Jemma said in a small voice.

Fitz snorted in disdain. “A rule which we broke,” he said angrily. “A rule which everyone breaks. If you ask me, it’s the damn anti-fraternisation rule which causes problems like this. Everyone’s sneaking around, all sorts of nebulous relationships going on in the base, no-one knows where they stand. So you and I end up yelling at each other in public over a misunderstanding, and Trip’s off to Chicago to protect the girl who broke his heart and the guy she’s now going on a date with.” He shook his head in disgust. “Maybe things like this wouldn’t happen if Shield agents were allowed to date each other more openly. I mean, you just can’t ask people not to fall in love.”

Jemma mouth dropped open. “In love?” she almost whispered.

Fitz’s face burned and he stammered in response. “I mean…you know…have feelings generally…for each other…people, I mean.”

“Right. Yes.” Jemma nodded and turned away from him. “So as I was saying,” she said, without looking at Fitz, “we need to find Ward, and the only way we’re going to be able to find him is by tracking down the circlets.”

Fitz nodded slowly. “Okay,” he said. “I agree. But how are we going to get there? And what about Hunter?”

“As I said, Hunter should remain in this state for a few hours,” Jemma replied. “Trip will make sure he gets a med evac, and Coulson will probably send another quinjet which will be here in less than an hour. Whoever’s flying the quinjet could drop us off in Chicago. We have a top class surgical team in the Playground, they don’t need me there to save Hunter. We can do more good helping Skye and May.”

“So all we have to do is wait,” Fitz replied. “And figure out how we’re going to track down Ward when we get there.”

Jemma hugged her knees into her chest. “Well, we’ll just calibrate the DWARFs to search for the signatures of the circlets that we identified, won’t we?” She was having trouble summoning the energy to form the words, she felt so tired.

“Yeah, but the DWARFs only work over a short range,” Fitz replied as he pulled on a blade of grass. “So how do we know where to look? Just wander around Chicago with the DWARFs until we find him?”

“Hmmm, that’s a good point,” Jemma said, frowning. She rubbed at her face in an attempt to wake herself up. When she took her hands away, Fitz was watching her carefully.

“You’re knackered,” he observed. He got up and walked a few yards to a tree at the edge of the field, sitting down with his back against it. He patted his thigh, and beckoned to Jemma. “C’mere,” he called. “Lay your head down, get some kip until the med evac arrives.”

Summoning what little reserves she had left, Jemma scrambled up and moved towards the tree, collapsing down heavily in relief beside him. She curled up on her side, placing her head on his lap, while Fitz gently stroked her hair off her face. A shaky sigh rose right up from her belly and released itself into the air as she felt her muscles become heavy, the weight of them anchoring her body to the ground and to Fitz. Her mind swirled with images of screaming faces, fighting, gunfire, Fitz crying and Hunter’s body rapidly draining of blood. She momentarily felt her heart rate increase. Before long, however, the images became random, meaningless and fleeting as her consciousness sank into oblivion.

 

A loud, roaring sound filled her ears, shocking her into alarmed wakefulness. She had no idea for a moment where she was or how long she’d been asleep. Her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth, and the taste in the back of her throat made her shudder. The only thing she was entirely conscious of was Fitz’s presence, his smell, his warmth, his hand curled around her shoulder, his thigh beneath her head. In confusion, she looked up to see his face smiling down at her.

“Sorry,” he yelled over the sound. “I tried to wake you when I saw it coming, but you were out for the count.” He pointed in front of him, and Jemma lifted her head to see a quinjet descending into the field. Everything came rushing back to her. She sat up to let Fitz get to his feet. He offered his hand to help her up, and then held onto it as they crossed back to where Hunter lay, standing over him as they waited for the quinjet to come to a stop and the ramp to lower. Shivering again, Jemma huddled into Fitz as she watched the ramp slowly reveal Bobbi’s blonde hair and anguished face. Even before it had hit the ground, Bobbi had leapt off it, her face white and her eyes wild as she ran towards them. Mack emerged out of the plane behind her and followed her over.

“Oh god, oh god,” Bobbi cried out as she ran to Hunter’s body. The surge of emotion Jemma experienced nearly felled her. Bobbi dropped to her knees beside Hunter, cradling his head in her hands.

“He’s alive,” Jemma said softly as she bent forward to place her hand on Bobbi’s shoulder.

“Trip said you put him in a state of suspended animation.” Bobbi sounded dazed as she stared back up at Jemma. “I didn’t even know that was possible.”

“Well, to be entirely honest, neither did I,” Jemma replied truthfully. “I gave it to him because I was desperate, but I had no idea if it would work or not. But it did, and we’ve bought enough time to get him back to the surgery team. At least now he has a fighting chance, Bobbi.”

“Thank you, Jemma,” Bobbi whispered, her eyes filling up with tears. “I don’t know what I would do if I lost him.” Jemma just nodded, unable to speak, and moved back a little closer to Fitz. She immediately felt his hand at the small of her back, the warmth of it like a balm to her shattered emotions.

“Well, let’s get him back as soon as we can then,” Mack said gruffly. Very gently, he took Bobbi by the shoulders and guided her up to her feet, before crouching down and scooping Hunter up into his arms. Jemma had never thought of Hunter as being slight until she saw how small he looked in the mechanic’s massive arms. Fitz lifted their bags and cases, handing Jemma’s backpack to her, and they all followed Mack as he carried Hunter onto the plane. Depositing him on a medical trolley that was laying flat on the floor of the quinjet, he began fastening him into it, as Bobbi knelt beside Hunter, tenderly stroking his face.

Mack got to his feet and turned to face Jemma and Fitz, where they were buckling themselves into their seats. “We found Storch,” he said. “Ward was long gone by the time we got there though.”

“Is Storch…?” Jemma began hesitantly.

“He’s alive,” Mack replied. “But he was disoriented, confused. He had no memory of the device.”

Fitz sighed and dropped his head. “Ward used it on him.”

“Looks like,” Mack replied. “To find out what we knew, no doubt.”

“He was obviously pretty sure that Storch would tell us about Thomas,” Fitz said bitterly. “And he knew that the first thing we’d do was try to track Thomas down. So instead of trying to find Thomas himself, Ward has been trying to find us for the past month, knowing that we would lead him right to Thomas…or Lincoln, as he is now. Ward knows us too well.” He chewed on his bottom lip and Jemma knew that he was internally chastising himself for ever trusting Ward. She placed her hand over his, stroking her thumb back and forth over his knuckles. Bobbi got to her feet and came to stand beside Mack.

“Marta Valenti?” she asked Jemma, as she shook her head. “I can’t believe it. I would never have believed that of her.”

Jemma sighed heavily. “I know. I wouldn’t have either.”

“I knew her brother,” Bobbi said. “He was a hell of a specialist and he was devoted to Shield. I thought Marta was too.”

“Do you think it’s possible that she might have been brainwashed?” Jemma asked her.

Bobbi shrugged. “By Hydra? When would that have happened? Marta’s been at the Playground as long as the rest of you guys, hasn’t she?”

“She arrived shortly after we did, yes,” Jemma said. “So I don’t know how she met Ward, unless she knew him before he joined Coulson’s team. I think he might have used the circlets on her, I don’t know. She was saying some pretty strange things.” Jemma took a deep breath, and then ploughed on, “Bobbi, Hunter will remain in this state for a few hours. He’ll be fine until then. Meanwhile…Fitz and I need to get to Chicago. Can you drop us there before you head back to the base?”

“Trip’s on his way to Chicago with his team,” Bobbi answered. “Skye and May will be fine, you two can come back to the base.”

“No,” Fitz said suddenly, shaking his head. “The whole reason Coulson sent us in the first place was to find Ward by tracking down the unique signatures given off by the circlets. They still need us there to do that. Especially now that Skye and May are in danger.”

“Guys, this is a _whole_ new thing now,” Bobbi answered. “You were supposed to go to Chicago to help find Ward, under the supervision of Trip and May. We thought Ward didn’t know we were coming, now he’s ambushed us…again…and he’s obviously not afraid to kill people,” she spat in anger as she gestured towards Hunter.” Mack stood up behind her in response to her raised voice, a worried look on his face. “Mack and I will go to Chicago as soon as I know Hunter is going to be okay,” Bobbi went on. “But we’re not leaving you two there on your own, when Trip’s not even there yet, and we don’t know May’s whereabouts…”

“What?” Fitz’s head shot up, and Jemma felt her stomach plummet to the floor while her heart simultaneously shot up into her throat.

Bobbi sighed and bowed her head and Mack spoke.

“After Trip called and told us what happened, Coulson got in touch with Skye. She and Lincoln Campbell are okay, but Skye said May went to meet you guys…”

“It’s probably nothing to worry about,” Bobbi interrupted, “but he can’t get in touch with May.”

“Oh my god.” Jemma’s heart thudded so hard against her sternum it was almost painful. She felt like she was going to be sick again.

“Listen, she could have gone dark because she’s hiding,” Bobbi reassured them. “It’s May. She can handle Ward. She’s literally the only person he’s scared of.”

“But May’s on her own and Ward’s not,” Jemma argued. “All the more reason why we need to get to Chicago. If May’s in trouble then we need to find Ward more than ever. And if Ward uses the circlets on her, then he’ll know where Skye and Lincoln are.”

“You said it yourself, Bobbi,” Fitz reasoned with her. “This is not the first time Ward has caught us by surprise. The one advantage we have over him at this stage is that we know how to track his circlets. Ward needs the circlets to use on Lincoln, and he has no way of masking their signatures. So he’s going to need to rush this, before we can track him down.”

“Which is why we need to get there now,” Jemma reiterated. “Bobbi, we’re wasting time, both for Skye and May, and for Hunter. Please. Just let us do this.”

“I’ll go with them, Bobbi,” Mack said. “You take Hunter back to the base.”

Bobbi considered them both for a minute, and then sighed and nodded at Mack before moving towards the cockpit. Jemma anxiously watched her go. As Mack moved to follow Bobbi, Jemma held her hand out to halt him.

“Mack,” she said in a low voice, and he turned back towards her with a questioning look. “Thank you for offering to come with us,” she went on quietly, as he squatted down in front of her to listen. “We really appreciate it, but…”

“Uh-uh, no buts, Simmons,” Mack interrupted her with a shake of his head. “There’s no way we’re going to drop the two of you into that situation on your own.”

“ _Mack_ ,” Jemma hissed in a firm tone. “Before I gave Hunter the formula, he was in a bad way. A _really_ bad way. He was just seconds from death. Now, I’ve bought him some time, but there’s no guarantee at the moment that the surgeons will be able to save him.”

Horror dawned on Mack’s face and he looked from Jemma to Fitz. Fitz nodded sombrely at him and then looked away, his jaw working. Mack turned his attention back to Jemma, staring at her as he waited for her to continue.

“And if they don’t,” she went on in little more than a whisper, “then…you need to be there.” She glanced significantly towards where Bobbi was sitting in the pilot’s seat.

Mack followed her gaze, and swallowed, considering her words for a minute.

“We’ll be alright, Mack,” Fitz assured him. “We’ll make contact with Trip when we get there. We’ve already been undercover and survived two different firefights with Ward,” he added, as Mack looked unconvinced. “We’re more experienced than you think. But you’re Bobbi’s best friend, and she might need you. Nothing’s more important than that.”

Jemma nodded emphatically. Mack appeared to process this information and then gave her a slow nod in return. “Alright, Hermione,” he agreed, as he tapped her knee gently. “I’ll go back to the base with Bobbi. But you guys call Trip the minute you get there, alright? Bobbi would never forgive me if anything happened to either of you. And neither would Hunter, for that matter.”

“We promise, Mack,” Jemma replied. “But you don’t have to worry. We’re not kids. We are Shield agents as well, you know. And finding Ward and these circlets requires our area of expertise. We have to do this.”

“Okay,” Mack said, with an incline of his head. “But good luck explaining it to Bobbi.”

“Actually, Mack, we were hoping that you could…”

“Explain what to Bobbi?” Bobbi called from where she was sitting.

“ _Are we sure she doesn’t have super powers?_ ” Fitz whispered.

Jemma took a deep breath. “Mack’s not coming with us, Bobbi. He’s going back to the base with you.”

“Like hell,” Bobbi thundered, and Mack shrugged a silent ‘I told you so’ at Jemma. “Either Mack goes with you guys to Chicago,” Bobbi called over her shoulder, “or we’re all going straight back to the base.”

Jemma’s patience finally snapped. “Do I need to remind you two that technically Fitz and I outrank you both?” she said sharply.  Mack’s jaw dropped, Bobbi’s head whipped round in shock and Fitz hissed her name whilst placing his hand on her arm in silent warning.

“Well, we do,” Jemma insisted, looking around at them all. “We’re the joint directors of the Science and Technology Division. We’re actually _your_ bosses, Mack - and Bobbi, you don’t give us orders, only Coulson and May can do that.”

“Yeah, but in the field…”Bobbi began to argue, and Jemma interrupted her.

“If you were given command of this mission, then we’d be obligated to obey you, yes,” Jemma countered. “But you weren’t. Trip was, and he’s not here. He’s heading to Chicago, which is a big place, so he needs our help to find Ward.” She relented, softening her tone as she went on. “So while we really do appreciate your concern, we also need you to please let us do our jobs. It’s what we’re here for, it’s why we joined Shield. Please, Bobbi, just drop us off in Chicago. You have other things to worry about. Hunter’s surgery could be a long one and you need to be there, and Mack should be with you. Someone should. Everyone else is busy with this mission.”

Mack folded his arms and looked at Bobbi as he waited for her response. Bobbi turned her head and stared out the window of the plane for a moment, and Fitz nervously jiggled his knee. The tension was obviously getting to him. Jemma placed her hand on his knee, stilling the movement. Finally Bobbi turned back to Jemma and nodded in defeat.

“Okay,” she sighed, sounding worn out. “But as soon as you guys get there, you need to call Trip and then you need to find a motel and hole up there until he arrives. You said it yourself, he’s your mission leader. He wouldn’t be happy with you going anywhere until he says so. That’s not an order, but it is correct protocol. And you know how you like to follow correct protocol, Jemma,” she added, arching an eyebrow in challenge.

Jemma nodded in relief, and Fitz sat up straight beside her in surprise. He’d obviously been bracing himself for a fight. “Okay, I agree,” Jemma replied.  “We’ll find a motel and wait for Trip.”

Bobbi nodded before directing her attention towards preparing the jet for take-off. Mack gave Jemma an impressed look, as he moved to buckle himself into a seat beside where Hunter lay.

“Alright, Hermione,” he said in a tone of surprised admiration. “I’ll know to do whatever you say in future.”

Jemma gave him a bashful grin, and turned to glance at Fitz, who was also giving her an impressed look…although a very different sort of one altogether. A kind of look that Jemma really couldn’t think too much about right now, on a jet about to take-off, in front of Bobbi and Mack and all that adrenalin still coursing through her system. She looked away from him quickly, and squeezed her thighs together.

“Oh, and Fitz?” Bobbi called over her shoulder.

“Yeah?” he answered, as he lifted his head.

“If you’re going out into the field, you _might_ wanna take the Shield Academy sweatshirt off.”

Fitz looked down at his front in surprise and then groaned as he remembered he’d put his sweatshirt on.

Jemma rolled her eyes and swatted his arm. “ _Ugh, Fitz_!”


	27. Chicago

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma and Fitz arrive in Chicago, and have some quiet time to themselves in their hotel room.

Shortly after take-off, Bobbi called in to the base. Coulson reported that he had a medical team on stand-by for their arrival, but there was still no news of May. Trip had sent his men to look for her, but he and Skye were staying at Lincoln’s apartment, to keep watch over the younger Ward. Jemma knew that meant Skye didn’t want to leave Lincoln while his abusive older brother was on the loose, and Trip didn’t want to leave Skye while her traitorous ex-whatever was on the loose. Coulson also signed off on Jemma and Fitz’s plan, and directed them to a cheap hotel on the outskirts of the city that had enough room on the roof for the quinjet to land. After exhorting Bobbi and Mack to keep them apprised of Hunter’s condition, they disembarked on the rooftop and trudged down the fire escape to enter the hotel by the front door. They were both fatigued beyond belief, sweaty, grubby, and still a little shaky, but the bored-looking receptionist barely glanced at them while she checked them in. They must have looked a sight too, Jemma thought – both still in their tact gear, black backpacks on their shoulders, and Jemma wearing Fitz’s oversized hoodie. The look was more akin to two people who had just committed a crime of some kind than wandering backpackers, but evidently this was a part of town where such attire didn’t raise any eyebrows. She was just thankful that their black clothing hid the blood spatters so well.

They rode the lift in exhausted silence. It was only as they arrived at the door of their room that that it occurred to Jemma that they had automatically asked for a double room without even thinking about it or discussing it with each other. The thought filled her with a lightness that warmed her chilled insides. She resisted the urge to reach out and touch Fitz in that moment, but instead watched him with a stirring of emotion as he grappled with the keycard.  He pushed the door open and stood back, inviting her to proceed him into the room with a wave of his arm. She accepted, surveying her surroundings with a contented sigh as she divested herself of her backpack. It was clean and comfortable at least, albeit without any frills. She didn’t mind at all. At this moment it might as well have been a paradise to her. There was a bed and a bathroom, there was a small dining table in the corner, and for now, they were safe.

Fitz threw his backpack down on the double bed and turned to her with a sigh. “Okay, I’m literally weak with hunger now,” he said, rubbing his forehead. He placed his hands on the small of his back and studied her with concern. “How’s your stomach, are you feeling any better? Do you think you could eat something?”

“Actually, now that you say that, I’ve just realised that I’m absolutely ravenous,” she replied, as she sank down onto the bed. “Which I suppose isn’t a surprise, since I’ve just left my breakfast behind in a field.”

“That’s great,” Fitz said with some relief. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.” He looked around the room. “This doesn’t seem like the kind of place that does room service – or even has a restaurant - so I’ll go out and get us some food…just as soon as I get a quick shower. I’m not fit to be in public at the moment, hygiene-wise. After I’m done, do you want to take a nice long shower?”

Jemma gave him a wry smile. “Do I smell that bad?”

He shrugged. “I honestly can’t tell over the smell of myself right now,” he replied, making her laugh. “And that’s not what I meant,” he went on, gently chiding her as he nudged her foot with his own. “I just meant because it would be relaxing, that’s all. It’ll make you feel better.”

Jemma could have melted, he was so sweet. He knew her so well. She loved showers, she found them both revitalising and relaxing at the same time. She also hated her hands being dirty, especially with blood, and the smell of iron from beneath her nails was making her slightly queasy. She nodded as she gave him a grateful smile.

“Right, you ring Trip then, while I jump in the shower,” he continued. “And then I’ll see if I can’t get some food for us. It’s been hours since we’ve eaten and I’m going to start getting grumpy very soon. Hey!” he said suddenly, his eyes lighting up in excitement. “We’re in Chicago! We should really have some deep dish pizza, shouldn’t we? Isn’t that what it’s famous for? You know, those frozen deep pan pizzas that you get in supermarkets back home, aren’t they called Chicago something? My mum always buys them. She says she always needs to have food in the freezer when I’m home because you never know when I’m going to get hungry.”

Jemma let out a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob. Everything was falling apart around them, May was missing and Hunter hovering somewhere between life and death, but here was Fitz, encouraging her to take a shower and getting excited about food and talking about his mum. She knew he was terrified, she knew he’d been reining in everything he was feeling since Hunter had been shot, but his only concern at the moment was looking after her. She had never loved him more than she did right now. Rising up off the bed, she moved towards him, standing on tiptoes as she clasped her hand around his neck and pressed her lips firmly against his. She poured everything she was feeling into the kiss, hoping her lips would imprint the depth of her love and gratitude into his being. His hands moved up her back, pulling her closer to him, but eventually Jemma ran out of breath. Reluctantly she broke away as they gasped in unison. She nestled her head in the crook of his neck and he cradled her tightly, stroking comfort up and down her back. It was wonderful and it was more than she could take. Before she knew it, the tears were freely falling.

“Ssshhhhh, it’s okay, it’s alright, Jemma, everything’s going to be alright, you’ll see,” he whispered against her ear. “Hey, you know what?” He took her gently by the shoulders, standing her back a step to look at her. “You were amazing today. No, really,” he insisted, as she ducked her head with a sob. He put his hand under her chin, and tilted her face up to meet his eyes. “I was so proud of you. You crawled to get lifesaving medicine in the middle of a fire-fight, you stayed so bloody calm under pressure, and if Hunter survives it will be because of you, Jemma. He would have died otherwise on that field - in my arms.” His voice shook and his chin wobbled on the last part of his sentence. “And making the decision to finish our mission and standing up to Bobbi and Mack, when they just wanted to pack us off home like we were kids – that took incredible guts, Jemma,” he continued. “You are one hell of a Shield agent, Agent Simmons,” he finished with a watery smile. “So I _know_ that we are going to find Ward and that device and save May – because together we can do anything we put our minds to.”

Jemma tried to smile back at him, but she felt her lip tremble and any words she could possibly have conjured to express what she was feeling in that moment got stuck behind the lump in her throat. Instead she threw her arms around him again.

“Okay,” Fitz said as he rubbed her back. “You know what? I’m very, _painfully_ , aware that I stink right now.” She laughed against his shoulder. The smell of stale fear sweat coming from both of them was somewhat overpowering. “So I’m going to get in the shower,” he continued with a soft chuckle, “because the sooner I’m done, the sooner you can take one and I can get us something to eat. Do you want to call Trip, let him know where we are?”

“Yeah,” Jemma sniffed, wiping her eyes as she let him go.

“Alright,” he said. “I’ll not be long.” He squeezed her hand before disappearing into the bathroom, and Jemma took out her phone to call Trip. He answered in the middle of the first ring.

“Jemma! Where are you guys, are you okay? How’s Hunter?” he began immediately.

“Hunter’s still in stasis, Bobbi and Mack have taken him back to the base,” Jemma replied. “They dropped me and Fitz off here, in Chicago. We’re at a hotel, I don’t even know the name of it,” she said, suddenly realising that she’d been in a total daze when they’d arrived. “Hold on and I’ll get it for you.” She crossed the room to the table and lifted the information guide, giving Trip the name of the hotel and the address.

“What the hell are you guys doing here?” Trip admonished her. “I meant for you to go back to the base with Hunter. Maybe I should have been more explicit about that.”

“We can help you find Ward,” Jemma replied. “I’m tired, Trip and I don’t want to argue,” she said, cutting him off as he began to speak. “Coulson has sanctioned us being here. Is there any word from May yet, or does Ward definitely have her?”

“I was just about to let Coulson know when you called,” Trip replied.  “May’s okay! Well, mostly. She turned up at Lincoln’s apartment - she’s pretty pissed but she’s not hurt. She was waiting for us to arrive at the appointed landing spot for the quinjet, and Ward and Valenti ambushed her when she got on the plane. She managed to get away, but the bastard used that damn device on her. Now he knows where Lincoln lives, so May’s taken him and Skye to a safe location. We’re just waiting here now for Ward to arrive, so it’s okay, we don’t need you guys. You just hang tight, and I’ll come pick you up as soon as we’ve got Ward and Valenti in custody.”

“Oh thank god,” Jemma breathed. She felt like her whole body should have been collapsing in relief, but she could hardly bring herself to believe that the danger was over. Maybe it was because they were still waiting for news on Hunter’s condition, but she couldn’t quite let go of the feeling that something terrible was happening. She also felt like there was something that Trip had said that was niggling at her, but she felt too exhausted to clearly identify it. Perhaps she was just overwrought with everything that had happened. “That’s fantastic news, Trip,” she went on. “I’ll let you get back to your operation then. Keep us updated, and I’ll let you know if there’s any news on Hunter.”

“Roger that,” Trip replied as he hung up the phone. As Jemma flopped back on the bed, Fitz came out of the bathroom, followed by a haze of steam. A towel was wrapped around his otherwise naked form and he smelled of clean and comfort. He smelled like himself again. For a second, Jemma was tempted to go and run her hands over his chest, to pull away the towel, and just lose herself in physical comfort with him, but the shame of her own unwashed state prevented her.

“You speak to Trip?” Fitz asked her.

“Yes. He says May’s okay,” she replied, as she pushed herself up into a sitting position. His face lit up and Jemma averted her eyes from how incredibly hot he looked. She felt like crap in comparison. She got up off the bed and busied herself with getting her toilet bag out of her backpack as she explained the situation to him. “She got away from Ward, and she’s taken Skye and Lincoln somewhere safe. She says Ward’s on his way to Lincoln’s apartment, so Trip and his men are waiting for them there. So it’s all over bar the shouting, they don’t need us after all, apparently.”

“Oh my god,” Fitz declared as he sank down onto the bed in relief. “That’s amazing!”

“Isn’t it?” Jemma answered him. She frowned as she wondered why she wasn’t feeling as relieved as he obviously was.

“What is it, Jemma, what’s wrong?” Fitz asked as he watched her face with concern.

She shook her head. “Oh, nothing. I think I’m just too wound up, that’s all. I’m having difficulty relaxing.”

“Well, go get in the shower then,” Fitz said sympathetically. “I’ll get dressed and go look for food. This is great news, Jemma. May and Skye are okay, and Trip has Ward outnumbered now. Ward probably doesn’t even know that Trip made it to Chicago, so he won’t be expecting him. Did you call Coulson yet, check in with him?”

Jemma shook her head wearily. “No, I’d only just got off the phone with Trip.”

“I’ll give him a call now,” Fitz said, “and see if Mack and Bobbi have arrived with Hunter yet… see if there’s any news.”

Jemma nodded and turned to enter the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She tried to go over the conversation with Trip in her head as she stripped off her dirty tac gear, but she was so tired she was having difficulty remembering it now. There had been something Valenti said on the plane as well that had niggled at her, but she couldn’t remember what that was either. All her worries melted away the minute she stepped under the spray of hot water however. Nothing had ever felt so good to her in her life as that shower washing away all the grime and tension from her aching limbs – apart from sex with Fitz, she thought with a little smile and a rush of heat at the memory. She soaped all the events of the day out of her hair and from under her nails, and she even managed to temporarily forget about Hunter’s fate as she let herself experience the simple pleasure of a shower.

 

Fitz was gone by the time she emerged from the bathroom. She fished her pyjamas and a clean pair of socks out of her backpack and put them on, zipping up Fitz’s hoodie over the top of them again, just because she liked wearing it. Then she dried her hair and hung up her clean clothes for tomorrow. She shoved her tac gear into a laundry bag, along with Fitz’s, which had been left lying on the floor with his dirty socks and underwear – typical, she thought in a moment of comfortingly familiar and almost fond frustration. Settling back on the bed, she flicked through the TV channels looking for something to watch until Fitz got back. Not for the first time since she’d been in America, she wished that American hotels supplied electric kettles like British hotel rooms had, along with tea bags and UHT milk. She was dying for a cup of tea, of all things. Such a British thing that, she thought with a shake of her head – first response in a crisis is to look for a cup of tea.  But if she couldn’t have a cup of tea, then alcohol was another good option. She was just about to call Fitz, to ask him to pick up some beers, when a knock at the door startled her. Instinctively, Jemma grabbed her ICER from her backpack and moved cautiously towards the spy-hole. She wasn’t sure who she thought it might be but she almost laughed at herself when she saw Fitz standing there, holding a large pizza box in one hand and a grocery bag in the other. She opened the door with a rueful smile, waving the ICER at him in some embarrassment.

“Hey, that’s good thinking,” he said with approval. “You did right to be so cautious. I didn’t mean to startle you, I should have thought, I should have texted to let you know I was on my way.”

“Well, you obviously had your hands full,” she said, as he put everything he was carrying down on the table.

“Great news,” he said, almost breathless with excitement, as he pulled off his jacket. “I called Coulson. Bobbi and Mack have arrived at the base, and Hunter was still in surgery when I spoke to him, but the doctors have told Coulson that the fact Hunter’s in stasis means that the surgery is really straightforward, and there shouldn’t be any complications. They think there’s every chance he’s going to be okay.”

Jemma nodded, momentarily unable to speak. “That’s what I was hoping,” she eventually managed to breathe out.

“They’re completely blown away by your formula, by the way,” Fitz continued happily, as he hunted about in the grocery bag. “They said Hunter would have died otherwise and they believe it could revolutionise, not just field operations, but the treatment of trauma patients generally. You, Dr Simmons, are a hero,” he said proudly, as he produced a bottle of champagne from the bag, setting it on the table. Jemma’s mouth fell open. She pressed her lips together again and covered her broadening smile with her hand as she watched the love of her life being his wonderful self. “I mean, it, you’ve not only saved Hunter’s life, but also the lives of countless people in the future,” Fitz continued earnestly, as his hand dived back into the bag. He pulled out two plastic cups and handed them to Jemma. “So I thought we should celebrate,” he said.  He set about opening the champagne, and Jemma bounced gleefully on the balls of her feet.

“Oh, Fitz, thank you, this is amazing! You are an actual living, breathing mind-reader, by the way,” she declared happily. “I was just about to text you to ask if it was possible to pick some wine or beer or something. So you’re the hero, not me!”

He poured the champagne into the cups and took one from her as he set the bottle down on the table. “Well, I thought this called for more than wine or beer.” He held his cup out towards her. “To you, Jemma Simmons, the bravest and most brilliant person in the world! And to Hunter as well, of course.”

“To Hunter,” Jemma said as she raised her cup. “And you, Agent Fitz, are not so bad for a Shield agent yourself. Don’t think I didn’t notice that the first thing you did when all hell broke loose on that plane was to throw yourself on top of me.”

Fitz ducked his head and scratched his face, an embarrassed smile on his face.

“And the second thing you did was to run towards Hunter,” she went on softly. “If you and Trip hadn’t got him off that plane, I would never have been able to give him the formula. It was a team effort on this one.” He lifted his head to meet her eyes, and she tapped her cup against his. “Cheers.”

“Sláinte,” he replied with a grin, and they both took a drink of the champagne.

“Oh wow,” Jemma said with a smack of her lips. “I can tell already that’s going to go straight to my head. We’d better eat something.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Fitz agreed. He pulled out a chair, motioning for her to sit down, and then reaching across her to flip the pizza box open. “Got a large thin-crust pizza to share,” he said, indicating it with his hand. “I thought it would be easier to eat, since we have no plates or cutlery. Chicken and mushroom, your favourite.”

“Aw, but you prefer pepperoni,” Jemma replied, her voice a mixture of gratitude and regret.

“I like chicken and mushroom as well,” he reminded her. “And I got dessert.” He lifted a pastry box out of the grocery bag. “Chocolate fudge cake. A large slice each.”

“Oh, Fitz,” Jemma sighed happily. “Thank you.” She kissed his cheek, and he grinned as he pulled a chair out for himself. Jemma helped herself to a slice of pizza, letting out an embarrassingly suggestive moan as she chewed her first mouthful. Fitz snorted as he lifted a slice, but he was soon emitting his own sounds of pleasure – the only sounds punctuating the contented silence as they just enjoyed their dinner for a while.

“Is it just me or is this the best pizza you’ve ever tasted in your life?” Fitz eventually groaned, as he reached for another slice.

“I’m trying to decide if it is, or if we’re just that hungry,” Jemma replied with a mouth full of pizza. “But honestly, I don’t care. Right at this moment it’s the best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth.”

Fitz arched an eyebrow and sucked in a breath as if he was about to speak, but Jemma beat him to it.

“Apart from you, of course,” she added mischievously, sucking pizza sauce off her finger as she waited for his reaction.

Fitz barked out a loud laugh, almost choking on his pizza in the process. “Jemma Simmons!” he declared, his tone shocked and amused at the same time. “Get your mind out of the gutter, woman!”

“Yeah, like you weren’t about to say the same thing,” Jemma scoffed, taking a sip of her champagne.

“I was about to say no such thing,” Fitz replied in mock sanctimony. “Stop projecting your depravity onto me. I was an innocent young boy until you corrupted me with your wiles.”

“Mmmm, so whose idea was the vibrator last night?” Jemma said, biting her lip as she watched his pupils dilate and his tongue flick over his lips at the memory.

“Well, you were the one who brought it up,” he said, his voice becoming dangerously low as he fixed his eyes on hers. “I am but a man, Jemma. There are some mental images I am powerless to resist.” He grinned mischievously at her and winked, and a spark of heat in Jemma’s core caused her insides to curl up. She rested her elbows on the table, dangling her plastic cup of champagne in one hand as she leaned towards him.

“Hey, Fitz?”

“Yeah?”

“About today…on the quinjet…before Marta and Ward and everything happened…”

“You mean when I asked you out?” he said, his eyebrow quirking in a maddeningly appealing manner.

She bit her lip, trying in vain to stop the huge smile that was spreading across her face, but it didn’t appear to work, as Fitz immediately returned it.

“Yeah,” she said. “Is that still…are we still going to…do you still want to do that?”

“Yes, Jemma,” he said softly, as his eyes flitted over her face. “I definitely still want to do that.”

“So what did you have in mind?” she asked him.

He reached across for another slice of pizza. “I was thinking of that French restaurant in town? Near the Playground, I mean. The one you always say looks really nice whenever we pass it.”

“Fitz!” She sat back in delighted astonishment. “That place is ridiculously expensive!”

“Yeah,” he said with a shrug. “Not to sound like a shampoo commercial, but… you’re worth it. Very, very much so.”

A blush rose to her face and she spent about a full minute smiling like an idiot before she could speak.

“Uhm, that…that would be wonderful. I was just…though, I was wondering…?”

Fitz’s forehead creased in worry and his slice of pizza dangled mid-air as he waited for her to finish.

“Jemma, what is it?”

“Well, I was wondering if maybe we could go there on our second date instead?”

Fitz slumped in visible relief. “Of course!” he replied brightly. “Why, what do you want to do for our first date?”

“Well, I know I don’t exactly look the part, being in my pyjamas and without any make-up or anything, but I was wondering…if maybe this could be it? Now?”

Fitz stared at her for a moment, and then looked around in a panic.

“I mean, you look beautiful, Jemma, pyjamas or not, but…now?” he replied. “This? A date? In a cheap hotel room, with pizza in a box and champagne in plastic cups?”

“Well, what’s wrong with that?” Jemma asked with a giggle.

“Well, it’s not very romantic, is it?” he cried in consternation. “I wanted to do something really special for our first date.”

Jemma reached across and placed a soothing hand on his arm. “Fitz, this is really special. Incredibly special. Don’t get me wrong, I love the idea of getting all dressed up and going to a posh restaurant, but if there’s anything I’ve learned from this day, it’s that the unexpected can happen at any minute, and everything can change in an instant. We have no idea what’s going to happen tomorrow, but we’re alive right now and we’re together and we’re alone, we have a hotel to ourselves for the night – we would never get this kind of peace on the base! And this pizza is delicious and we have champagne, and who cares if we only have plastic cups?! This all feels very romantic to me, so let’s do this now,” she pleaded with him. “Let’s eat and then we’ll cuddle up on the bed and find some terrible action film to watch, so that we can scoff at the physics of the stunts and scientific inaccuracies of the special effects, except this time maybe we can have a snog and forget what the hell we’re watching. Please.” She caught her breath and waited for his reaction. He was still staring at her in astonishment, but his expression had softened and his lips curled up in a smile as he began to speak.

“I mean, I was going to suggest doing that anyway,” he said. “Minus the snog, of course, unless, you wanted to…but I suppose, I just never thought of _this_ being a date,” he said. “But when you put it like that…” He looked at her for a moment. “You really want this to be our first date?”

“Eating pizza and drinking champagne together in a hotel room, after we’ve almost died and had to save our friend’s life?” Jemma asked. “Yes,” she nodded, “I definitely want this to be our first date.”

Fitz took a deep breath. “Okay, then,” he said as he raised his cup again. “I was kind of hoping to sweep you off your feet on our first date, but if you want this evening to count as our official first date, then I will drink to that.”

“Fitz, you sweep me off my feet every single day!” she objected.

He put down his cup in surprise, and Jemma felt the colour rising on her cheeks as he stared open-mouthed at her. “Well, you do,” she said with a shrug. “I mean…did you even want to be friends with benefits?”

“Ah…” Fitz paused, clearly uncertain of how to answer.

“No, I don’t think you did, but you agreed anyway, because I wanted it,” Jemma said. “I can’t really understand why you want to go on a date with me, after I railroaded you into that, but somehow you do and…”

“I didn’t want to be friends with benefits, because I wanted to be more than that,” Fitz interrupted her suddenly. Jemma stopped in her tracks and stared at him. Fitz shrugged. “I’ve been wanting that for a while. Even before Malta…although pretending to be a couple in Malta made me realise that’s what I wanted. I was unsure what I was feeling until then.”

“So why did you agree to it?” she asked him in surprise. “Why didn’t you tell me you wanted more?”

“Because I thought you didn’t. I thought being friends with benefits was all you wanted. And I thought maybe…that was all we could have, at the end of the day. Don’t forget, what we’re doing is against the rules of the organisation we work for. The organisation that is also our home.”

Jemma sighed and slumped back on her seat. “I know. Maybe that’s part of why I was so scared to admit to myself that I had feelings for you. The truth is, Fitz, I realise now that the whole friends with benefits thing was a giant ruse that I created…not to trick you,” she added quickly, as she realised how that might sound. “But to fool myself into thinking that was all I wanted. I was pretty heavily in denial about what was happening between us, or about the fact that I really wanted more than that as well.”

“Yeah, I kinda figured,” Fitz said with a grin. “I mean, I kind of thought that, but I didn’t really let myself believe that’s what you were doing…not until today. Hunter kind of helped me with that, to be honest. But really, my first clue was when you had me knock down the fucking wall between our rooms.”

Jemma burst out laughing at that, and Fitz joined in. “Bloody hell!” Jemma said, wiping her eyes. “I really did that, didn’t I? That’s insane! How did I not realise at that point?! How can you be so much in denial that you’ll knock down a wall because you want to be with someone so bad, and still tell yourself that you’re just friends with benefits?! How are you still even attracted to me?? Obviously I’m completely crazy!”

Fitz sighed as his laughter subsided, and lifted his cup to his lips. “Well, you always were an odd duck,” he said. “But that’s what I love about you.” The cup froze in mid-air, and the colour drained from his face as he realised what he’d just said. Jemma’s heart swooped so dramatically she worried it might fly out of her mouth. An irrational thought for a biochemist, she thought wryly.

“I love you too,” she said, biting back a smile. Fitz took a drink of his champagne and then set it down on the table, before leaning across and cupping her face with his hand as he kissed her deeply on the mouth.

“You’re supposed to wait until the date’s finished before you kiss me,” she teased him, as he slowly pulled away from her lips.

“I apologise, I don’t have much experience with dating.” Fitz gazed into her eyes as he spoke. “I just thought it was going really well so far.”

“It is,” Jemma replied with a smile. “Although I wouldn’t mind finishing this pizza before it goes much further.”

Fitz chuckled and pulled back with an incline of his head. “A girl after my own heart,” he said as he helped himself to another slice. “It’s just a pity…oh!” he declared suddenly, and dropping the slice.

“What?!” Jemma replied in alarm.

He pushed his chair back from the table and crossed the room to grab his backpack. “I know how I can make this more romantic,” he said gleefully.

“Oh, Fitz,” Jemma groaned as she rolled her head back. “I told you, this is already romantic…”

“I meant even more romantic,” Fitz said, as he delved into his backpack. “I just remembered that I have something to show you. Remember you wanted to buy one of those sunrise alarm clocks, and I said not to bother because I could make an even better one for you?”

“Yes,” Jemma laughed fondly, “you said you could make me an alarm clock that would project an actual sunrise into my room instead of just a light slowly coming on.”

“Well, I did,” Fitz said proudly, as he pulled something that looked for all the world like an ordinary travel alarm clock out of his backpack. “Except I programmed some other features as well, that I thought you might like.” He walked to the window, pulling the heavy curtains shut, before sitting back down at the table and pressing a button on the alarm clock. A light shot out of the top of the clock, and bright sunlight exploded into the room. As Jemma’s eyes adjusted to it, on the walls around her she saw a low sun against blue skies, a turquoise sea and white sands.

“Oh, Fitz,” Jemma gasped, putting her cup down and clutching her chest in astonishment as she stared around the room. “It projects a beach scene?” Fitz held up a finger to stall her.

“Wait,” he said, as he pressed another button. Suddenly the sound of waves rolling into the shore filled the room.

“Oh wow,” Jemma breathed. “Fitz, I can’t believe this! This is perfect! It feels for all the world like we’re sitting on a beach!”

“This is the beginning of the sunset cycle,” Fitz said proudly. “It goes through a full sunset to a clear night sky – accurate constellations and everything. It’s to lull you off to sleep at night, but I thought it would suit this occasion just as well.” As he spoke, Jemma noticed the sun on the wall begin to dip, and a faint pinkish tinge to the light began to emerge. She was powerless against the smile that spread across her face and the tears that sprung up in her eyes. How such a horrific, nightmarish day could end with such beauty and love and intimacy and peace was one of the mysteries of life she would never comprehend, not were she to dissect it, and distil it and analyse it and put it under a microscope every day for the rest of her life. She was up from her chair before she knew it and sliding onto Fitz’s lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and peppering his face with kisses.

“Oh, you wonderful, beautiful, brilliant, romantic man, you!” she said, half-laughing and half-crying. “Fitz, this is the best first date ever!” She finished by planting a kiss on his mouth, one Fitz returned enthusiastically for a long moment.

“Well, it’s not over yet,” he said eventually, with a smile. “I mean…we still have pizza and champagne to finish.” He wrapped one arm around her waist, keeping her firmly on his lap, and reached across the table to lift a slice of pizza for her. She laughed and took it from him, resting her head against his as she chewed happily.

 

They finished their pizza as the sun on the wall sank lower and lower, bathing them in the pinky-orangey glow which flooded the room. It slowly faded to an indigo colour as the sun finally sank into the sea, and eventually to a velvety black as Fitz’s meticulously-positioned stars came out one by one. They crossed to the bed, with the intention of finding something to watch on TV, but Jemma was so entranced by the astronomically-accurate galaxy swirling around them that she insisted that they leave the TV off. Cuddles turned to kisses, languid, unhurried, contented and mindful, punctuated by soft sighs and gentle caresses, but as their movements became more and more lethargic, it became clear that exhaustion had finally gotten the better of both of them.  Eventually they snuggled under the blankets, still fully clothed, and Jemma rested her head on Fitz’s chest as they drifted off to sleep.

When she opened her eyes some time later, it was only the warmth of Fitz’s body still entwined around hers that convinced Jemma she wasn’t actually floating in space. As she remembered that the stars around her were Fitz’s projections on their hotel room ceiling, she also became conscious of the sound that had woken her - Fitz’s phone vibrating on the beside locker. She tried to push herself up on the bed to reach across him and get it, but the vibrating stopped. A second later, her own phone started ringing loudly. Fitz shot up in bed with an almost animalistic cry, whilst Jemma leapt off the bed and dived across the room to retrieve her phone from the desk.

“It’s Coulson,” she said, as she looked at the screen.

“Hunter!” Fitz said suddenly. “Oh god, Hunter! Something’s wrong.”

“Director,” Jemma said as she answered the phone. “Is everything okay? Is Hunter…?”

“Hunter’s okay,” Coulson replied. “His surgery was successful, and he’s out of stasis now and in a stable condition.”

“Oh, thank god!” Jemma breathed, and she crossed back to the bed to reassure Fitz with a hand to his shoulder. She felt him relax under his touch.

“Jemma, we have another problem here. Are you 100% certain that it was Agent Valenti who hijacked the plane with Ward?”

Something clenched in Jemma’s stomach as Coulson said this, and all her earlier doubts came rushing back to her. She pressed the speakerphone button and held the phone out for Fitz to hear as well.

“Yes, sir,” she replied breathlessly. “It was Marta Valenti, without a doubt. I know her well, so I’m absolutely positive.”

“See, this is extremely puzzling,” Coulson continued. “Because less than half an hour ago, Marta Valenti was found tied up and gagged in a storage cupboard here on the base.” Jemma sat down on the bed in shock. “She had been hit with an ICER. Bobbi and I interrogated her – she says she has never met Grant Ward, and she has no idea how she ended up in that cupboard, apart from remembering that she felt something hard hit her back yesterday morning, as she was making her up the corridor from the Communications Room to the kitchen. She says this was just before 11 am, and she remembers that because she always has a coffee at 11 am every day.”

“The base alarm went off just after 11,” Jemma heard Fitz say in the darkness.

“Yes,” Coulson answered. “So I don’t know what to make of it. Because she could easily have flown the quinjet back from Chicago, hidden it somewhere, sneaked onto the base, shot herself with an ICER…but who bound and gagged her? And why the hell would she do that?!”

“The quinjet…” Jemma said absently as she struggled to process this. “The quinjet…”

“Jemma?” Fitz said.

“Jemma?” Coulson said on the other end of the phone.

“Sir!” she said suddenly. “Who flew the quinjet?! Marta’s Communications! She’s a hacker, sir, she’s not a pilot. She’s never been trained to fly quinjets.”

“See, that’s what I was thinking,” Coulson replied. “But the thing is, I know for a fact that Ward can’t fly either. It’s like the one thing he didn’t train in. So unless he’s taken a crash course since he’s been on the run, it had to be Valenti that flew the plane.”

“No, but she said something else as well that didn’t make sense,” Jemma went on. “And Trip said that May…” Suddenly all the pieces that had been rattling about in Jemma’s exhausted brain - jarring her thoughts but not making any kind of sense - fell neatly into place. Jemma ran cold with horror as she realised what had happened. “Oh god!” she cried out. “Oh god, May…May!”

She felt Fitz leap off the bed and come to her side, a hand on her arm, the waves of panic coming off him.

“Jemma, what is it?” Coulson asked urgently. “What about May?”

“Trip said that May told him that Ward used the device on her, and that he knew where Lincoln lived. I should have realised at the time that doesn’t make sense, because if he had used the device on her…”

“Then she would have no memory of the device,” Fitz finished in horrified realisation.

“No,” Jemma replied. “And on the quinjet, Valenti said that she was there when Ward took the circlets from us. But she wasn’t there. The only other person who was there was…”

“That girl Kara,” Fitz said, his voice full of dread as he realised the implications of what Jemma was saying.

“Sir,” Jemma said urgently. “Do you remember there was rumour that Hydra had perfected technology…a, a mask of some kind, a nano-mask that could be imprinted with someone’s face and transplant it on to someone else, so to speak? What if that rumour was true? What if this Kara person has one of those? And she stole Valenti’s face so she could get on the plane without anyone noticing?”

“Jesus!” Coulson said, and Jemma almost flinched, she was so unused to hearing him swear.

“But sir, that’s not the worst of it,” Jemma said, her voice close to tears now, and her entire body reduced to one shuddering heartbeat as the reality of the situation sank in. “If I’m right about this – and I think I am because it’s the only thing that makes sense – it means that it wasn’t May who came and took Skye and Lincoln. It means that Ward still has May…and now he has Skye and Lincoln as well.”


	28. Deduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz, Jemma and Trip try to figure out where Ward has taken Skye, Lincoln and May.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry everyone, that this has taken so long to update. :-( Getting time to write is a rarity for me lately, and this was a particularly difficult chapter to finish. There is a lot of exposition in this chapter, but we're getting near the end of the action plot now, so please bear with it. (Don't worry though, there is still more relationship stuff to come!)

“ _DAMN IT_!” Trip slammed his hand angrily down on the table, making Jemma jump. Fitz felt his protective instincts being triggered – he knew her nerves were already frayed, her fears for Skye and May now compounded by her worry over Trip. There were times when Fitz was afraid that Jemma’s innate need for all her friends to be safe and happy might overwhelm her in this job. The shock of Trip’s sudden burst of frustration had brought tears to her eyes, and Fitz felt a need to comfort her before he did anything else. He placed a soothing hand on her shoulder, rubbing it down her arm briefly before removing it to employ both of his hands in a gesture of appeasement, as he moved towards Trip. Jemma had called Trip the moment she got off the phone with Coulson. He hadn’t spoken a word when she told him that it wasn’t May who had taken Skye and Lincoln, except to say that he’d be right over, but he had exploded almost the moment he’d come into the room.

“Trip, it’s not your fault…” Fitz began.

“ _It is my fault, Fitz!_ ” Trip yelled. “ _This whole damn mess is my fault!_ I should never have let her take them anywhere, I knew it wasn’t protocol, I only agreed because I was sick looking at them looking at each other like puppy dogs and giggling and…” He slammed his hand down again, and Jemma flinched. “And I should have noticed Valenti getting on the plane, she wasn’t part of the team I picked, she shouldn’t have been there, but I was too much in my head to check who was on the damn plane!”

Jemma’s hands had flown to her neck in anguish. “Trip, I’m the one to blame for no-one noticing Valenti…I mean, Kara… getting on the plane,” she said. “Fitz and I were having a…disagreement, and I’m afraid I made a bit of a spectacle of myself…”

“Jemma, I’m the mission leader,” Trip said bitterly. “The buck stops with me. You guys are scientists, you haven’t been field trained, you can’t be expected to know…”

“But I should have known,” Jemma protested. “I should have worked it out earlier, I knew something wasn’t right…”

“Okay, this is getting us absolutely nowhere,” Fitz interjected loudly, holding up his hands for peace. “We can stand here and blame ourselves all day, but it’s not going to get Skye and May back. You want to know whose fault this is? _It’s Ward’s fault_. He’s the one that took them, he’s the one who hijacked the plane. And we need to find him.”

“And how do we do that?” Trip demanded in frustration. “They’ve been gone all night, he’s got our damn quinjet, man, he could be anywhere in the world by now.”

Fitz sighed and rubbed his forehead. Trip was right, this was a nightmare scenario. How the hell Ward had managed to kidnap his brother and two top Shield agents from under their nose…he jerked his head up as the question occurred to him. How _did_ Ward and Kara kidnap two top Shield agents with such apparent ease?

“Wait,” he said, “let’s think about this. How did Ward and Kara get the jump on May? I mean, I know there were two of them and one of her, but it’s _May_ we’re talking about. She could have taken both out easily.”

Trip shrugged. “They had the element of surprise. May was waiting for us to arrive in that quinjet, she wasn’t expecting Ward and Kara to get off it. But they would have known she was there, they would have seen her when they were landing. And Ward knows May’s capabilities - all too well - so… they probably took her out with an ICER as they disembarked.”

“Right, that’s it!” Fitz said, pointing his finger at Trip in affirmation. “Coulson said that Valenti was hit with an ICER, so Kara definitely has one.” He turned to Jemma. “What did Coulson say about this Kara person?”

“Coulson thinks that she’s a former Shield agent,” Jemma replied, reading off the tablet she cradled in her arms. In any situation where she was nervous or uncomfortable, Jemma always clutched her data to her like it was sacred, and it made Fitz’s heart melt a little. “Agent Kara Lynn Palamas,” she intoned, chanting the information like a psalm, “also known as Agent 33. She was taken by Hydra when they raided a Shield safe house. Shield tried to get her back, but Agent Palamas had been brainwashed. She was working under John Garret, that’s obviously how Ward met her. It seems that her brainwashing has been undone, but unfortunately she appears to blame Shield for it happening in the first place.”

“Okay, but she still has her Shield training,” Fitz replied, spreading his palms. “So we know that she thinks like a Shield agent then. Hence the use of dendrotoxin. Here’s what I don’t understand.” He turned back to Trip. “Why would she take Skye as well as Lincoln? I mean, all this is about getting Lincoln to read his mind, why would Ward want Skye as well? It would have made more sense for May to say she was taking Lincoln to a safe place and insist Skye stay there to help you when Ward showed up. Lincoln’s not a trained Shield agent, but Skye is. Wouldn’t she just make life difficult for Agent 33? I mean, the minute Skye became suspicious, she’d fight, wouldn’t she? So why would she take her?”

Trip shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know, man. It doesn’t make sense to me.”

“Oh god!”

Both of their heads snapped round to look at Jemma, who was staring into space with horrified expression on her face. She looked up at them, and Fitz could see the hesitancy in her eyes about sharing whatever sudden awful realisation had occurred to her. He had always loved that about her, her desire to spare people from pain and fear for as long as she possibly could, but in the current situation there was no time for beating about the bush.

“Jemma, what is it?” he asked in an urgent tone as he moved towards her.

She took a deep breath as she looked from him to Trip. “Because Ward doesn’t just want Lincoln to read his mind. He wants Skye to do it as well.”

“ _What?!_ _Why??_ ” Fitz was incredulous.

Jemma kept her eyes on Trip. “On the quinjet, when Kara told Ward about overhearing your conversation with Fitz, I noticed Ward visibly react when she said that Skye was going out with his brother. He was jealous. Just like he appeared to be jealous of you in the hangar in Malta, Trip. I think…I think he still has feelings for her.”

“Oh hell no!” Trip declared, with an emphatic shake of his head.

Fitz stared at Jemma for a minute, but the truth of what she was saying was hard to ignore. Whatever else Ward had lied about, it had always been clear that his feelings for Skye were never one of them. Even after betraying them, Ward had wanted Skye to come away with him. He wanted her to understand why he’d done what he’d done. So, if Jemma was right about his reaction on the plane, it only made sense that was still his goal, despite his apparent relationship with Agent Palamas.

“Christ,” he muttered. “He’s just that delusional that he’d think that’s all it would take. That Skye would forgive him if she understood his feelings for her.”

“You guys really think he’d be willing to let her inside his head though?” Trip asked them. “I mean, rather that, than the other way around, but you really think Ward would reveal that much of himself?”  The tinge of jealousy to his tone did not escape Fitz’s notice, and he realised that Trip was astounded by Ward’s willingness to do the one thing that he couldn’t – to let Skye know what he was thinking. Although it was an inappropriate time to think of it, Fitz couldn’t help feeling relieved that he’d finally managed to summon the courage to tell Jemma how he felt. He quickly chastised himself for his self-congratulatory thoughts in the face of his friend’s distress, and returned his attention to the matter at hand.

“Ward’s plan is anything but selfless or honourable, Trip,” he said. “We know from Bobbi’s interrogation of Storch that the circlets only really work when the Reader – the person wearing the receiving circlet – has a particular piece of information that they want to retrieve,” he explained.  “For example, Storch wanted to find about Quinn’s latest project, because Roxxon were willing to pay for the information. So that’s what he took from Quinn’s mind. If you put on the reading circlets _without_ a particular question in mind, apparently all you get is an incomprehensible barrage of thoughts and images.”

“It is a relief to know that he wasn’t able to get anything else from May’s mind other than Skye and Lincoln’s location,” Jemma said with a shudder.

“Oh yeah? You don’t think that was bad enough?” Trip asked angrily.

“Oh, no!” Jemma cried. “I didn’t mean…”

“That’s not what she meant, Trip,” Fitz said evenly.

“I just meant, that he wasn’t able to completely violate May’s mind, take other information from her, whether about Shield or personal,” Jemma cried anxiously, wringing her hands.  “Because that would be absolutely devastating for someone as guarded as May. Or anyone really. It’ll be devastating enough to her that he got in there to find Skye and Lincoln.”

“We understand, Jemma, you’re thinking about May, and the awful experience _she_ had,” Fitz said, with a pointed look at Trip. He understood Trip’s distress, but he wasn’t going to allow him to direct his anger at Jemma’s compassionate nature. Trip was a good guy, but he could be very black and white about things, and prone to emotional reactions. Fitz had the same tendencies himself, he supposed, although his were somewhat tempered by many years of exposure to Jemma’s ability to see shades of grey, and to find reassurance in logic. She was always the one to soothe and calm Fitz when he lost his head, so he had to be the buffer now between her gentle reason and Trip’s passionate rage. Trip gave a terse, yet remorseful nod, swallowing his anger as he folded his arms. Fitz moved closer to Jemma, rubbing her back to soothe her.

“But how was Ward planning to get Skye and Lincoln to ask for the information he wanted them to have?” Trip asked in a calmer tone. “And god only knows what the hell he wanted to show either of them, but how would he know that they wouldn’t go looking for other information instead?”

“Because if there’s one thing Ward is good at, it’s knowing how to push other people’s emotional buttons,” Fitz replied tiredly, rubbing his hands over his face. “He’d manipulate them into it. It’s his MO after all.”

“There is one big flaw in his plan though, if he wanted both of them to read his mind,” Jemma suddenly said, as she turned her head to look at Fitz.

Fitz met her eyes and nodded. “Yeah,” he replied.

Trip looked between them both. “Well, you two don’t need that damn device anyway! C’mon guys, what the hell are you talking about?”

“The circlets remove all trace of themselves from the memory of the person they’ve been used on,” Fitz told him. “So that the person doesn’t realise that information has been stolen from their mind. In other words, once Ward let one of them read his mind, he’d be unaware of the device’s existence.”

“But he has that Kara girl with him,” Trip said. “No doubt Ward thought of that, and she was there to tell him about the device.”

“Yeah, but the tiny bit of hope is that all this was originally about Lincoln,” Fitz replied. “Or Thomas, as Ward would call him. Storch said Ward was obsessed with using the circlets to show Thomas that he never wanted to hurt him. So after all this time, he’s definitely going to use them on Lincoln first.”

“Which might have given Skye a fighting chance,” Jemma finished. “To escape whilst Kara was explaining to Ward what had just happened.”

Fitz nodded, and Trip unfolded his arms, placing them on his hips as he looked between them both with something like hope in his eyes. Fitz ran his hands through his hair as he thought quickly.

“Right, okay,” he said, in an attempt to clarify his thoughts. “So this is what we know so far. Ward and Kara hit May with an ICER - probably with a lower dose bullet, because they would have had to wait for her to wake up before Ward used the circlets on her to find out where Lincoln and Skye were. Then Kara imprinted May’s face onto her nano-mask and went to Lincoln’s apartment…I take it she was in a car?” he asked Trip.

Trip nodded. “She was driving the same rental May’s been getting around in the last couple of days.”

“So she said she was taking Skye and Lincoln to a safe place, drove them back to the quinjet and then…she hit both of them with an ICER?”

“No.” Trip shook his head and looked at Fitz as realisation flashed across his eyes. “No, she wouldn’t have driven them back to the quinjet.”

“Why not?”

“Because she had just told us – when we thought she was May – that Ward had dragged her onto the quinjet and used the device on her. So why would she drive them back there? The minute Skye saw the quinjet…”

“She would have gotten suspicious!” Fitz finished. “And she would have acted.”

“But wouldn’t Kara just have shot them with the ICER then?” Jemma asked.

“No, she was in the driving seat, she was the one in a vulnerable position,” Trip explained. “Skye could jump her from behind. If Kara’s thinking like a Shield agent, if she’s a good one, then she’s going to want to wait until she has Skye and Lincoln in a confined space with no weapons before she hits them with the ICER.”

“Why not shoot them with the ICER the minute they get in the car though?” Fitz asked.

“Too risky,” Trip replied with a shake of his head. “Driving through Chicago with two unconscious people in the back seat? You get pulled over, or even stalled in traffic, someone’s going to notice.”

“So what would you have done, Trip?” Jemma asked.

“If it were me, and I’m trying to take these people prisoner,” Trip answered slowly, “then I’m going to do exactly what they expect me to do. I’m going to lull them into a false sense of security. They think Agent May’s taking them to a safe place, so I’m going to do exactly that.”

“A Shield safe house!” Fitz exclaimed. “And Kara would probably know of one…Jemma…” he began.

“I’m already on it,” Jemma replied as she pressed a button on her phone and put it to her ear. “Marta, we need a list of all the Shield safehouses in the Chicago area,” she said into the phone. “Particularly any that Agent Palamas might have used before. Or Ward, for that matter.”

“Marta?” Trip mouthed at Fitz.

“Yes, Agent Valenti is understandably very anxious to help,” Fitz replied. “Her hacking skills are at our disposal apparently. Coulson and Bobbi are on their way in the Bus, by the way.”

“Well, we can’t wait for them,” Trip said grimly. “The minute Valenti sends through that list, I’m sending my team out to every house on it.”

“Really?” They both stopped to listen to Jemma’s voice in the background. “Oh, Marta, that’s fantastic! Great work, thank you so much!” She lowered her phone, putting it back in her pocket. “Won’t be necessary, Trip,” she said. “There are several Shield safehouses in the Chicago area, but only one where Agent Palamas spent several weeks hiding out before Hydra raided it and took her prisoner. It’s been out of use as a safehouse ever since. That has to be where Kara took them.”

“Alright, let’s go,” Trip said as he headed for the door. “I’ll call my team for back up.”

 

Fitz gripped the seat and door handle of Trip’s rented SUV as they tore through the virtually empty streets of Chicago in the grey light of early morning. He stole a few glances at the determined set of Trip’s face in the driver’s seat beside him, in between keeping an eye on the rear view mirror to see how Jemma was doing in the back seat. She was very pale and her hands clutched her seat belt like she didn’t trust it to stay in place. Fitz blew out a breath as he watched her. Everything had seemed so simple yesterday when he had asked Jemma out on the plane, but now Hunter had been shot and Ward had Skye and May and they had no idea if they were alright. He had never pictured their romantic relationship starting off in this kind of atmosphere, in the middle of a crisis and worried sick about their friends. His one consolation was that at least they’d finally admitted their feelings for each other and they’d had a date of sorts. And Hunter had been right, Jemma loved him. She felt the same way about him as he did about her. He could hardly believe this was real. Fitz experienced a sudden and powerful surge of determination. Fuck this, he thought defiantly. He was going to make sure he got to experience the happiness with Jemma that he’d been dreaming of for so long. There was no way he was going to let Grant Ward, of all people, fuck that up. They were going to find Ward and save their friends and lock him up for good, if he had anything to do with. And as soon as they had done that, he was going to take Jemma on their second date to the French restaurant she’d always wanted to try.

The car screeched to a halt as they arrived outside the safe house to which Marta had directed them, a rather shabby and neglected-looking two-storey greystone, not far from the university. Smart, Fitz thought – no-one would notice the comings and goings of strangers from a house in a residential area mainly populated by students. Trip was already out of the car, and Fitz and Jemma were following behind, when Agent Scott came running out of the house and down the steps towards them.

“Sir! We found Agent May!” he reported as he reached Trip. “She’s been ICED recently, she’s still groggy, but she’s okay.”

“Skye?” Trip said, the weight of fear breaking his voice.

Scott shook his head. “May was on mattress downstairs, handcuffed to a radiator. There were two other mattresses beside her, with two pairs of handcuffs, but Agent Skye and Lincoln Campbell are gone. Seems like Ward and Palamas took them - the bed upstairs has also been slept in…and other things, by the looks of it,” he said, with a suggestive lift of his eyebrows. Fitz almost laughed out loud when he saw the look of disgust on Jemma’s face.

“What did May say?” Trip asked, as he started striding purposefully up the steps.

“Nothing yet, sir,” Scott replied as he followed him. “She was still out when we arrived, she had just woken up when I heard your car pull up.”

Fitz and Jemma entered the house behind Trip and Scott, their noses wrinkling almost simultaneously at the musty smell that pervaded the hallway. A fine layer of dust covered the mahogany side table just inside the door, and rendered the gilt-edged mirror above it almost completely opaque. The floral paper on the wall behind it was faded and peeling, with no clear indication of what its original colour might have been. They stepped over a pile of junk mail that had obviously built up behind the door, and then been pushed forward when said door was opened for the first time in many months, toppling the hill of paper over the scuffed and dirty hardwood floor. Despite the urgency of the situation, Jemma looked around her and sighed regretfully, and Fitz knew without asking that she was thinking that this house must have been beautiful once. Jemma loved old houses. The fleeting thought swept through Fitz’s mind that he wanted to buy one for her someday.

Scott led them down the hall, past the living room and into a room to the right of the hallway, beyond the staircase and just before the kitchen. The room was empty apart from three mattresses on the ground, just like Scott had described. Two agents were standing in the middle of the room with their backs to them, and another was crouching in front of something. As they walked into the room towards him, they could see that something was May, sitting on one of the mattresses, with her head in her hands. Jemma rushed to her side, kneeling down and gently taking one of May’s hands away from her head to place it in her own hand.

“May! Are you alright?” she asked in a voice so saturated with concern it caused a pang in Fitz’s chest. She cradled May’s wrist between her thumb and forefinger as she looked at her watch to time her pulse.

“Well, I’ve been ICED at least three damn times in the last 12 hours or so,” May croaked. “So not feeling so hot right now, no.”

“May, where did he take them? What’s his plan?” Trip demanded as he dropped to his knees beside her.

“The hell if I know,” May snapped. “Like I said, I’ve spent most of the last 12 hours in an unconscious state.” She sneered. “The only way the coward knew he could control me. I just woke up and you guys were here and Skye and Lincoln were gone.”

“DAMN IT!” Trip swore, getting to his feet again. “He has a quinjet, he could be anywhere with them by now.” He began pacing up and down the room, the desperation apparent in his eyes. Fitz watched him with concern. Trip was panicked, thinking like a worried boyfriend instead of a Shield agent. He stopped suddenly in the middle of the room and whirled round to face Fitz.

“Do you think he’s already used the circlets on them?” he demanded.

“What _circlets_ , what are you talking about?” May asked in confusion, raising her head to look at Trip.

Jemma made a noise of sympathy. “We’ll explain later, May,” she said, placing a hand on May’s shoulder. “After we find Skye and Lincoln.” She stood up and turned to the other agents standing there. “Can somebody get Agent May some water please?” she instructed them in her doctor voice. One of the men, Agent O’Brien, nodded and left the room.

Fitz turned to Trip. “I’ll get our equipment from the car,” he told him.  “If they only left recently, we might be able to pick up a signature, see if it tells us anything.” Trip nodded, his jaw clenched in anxiety, and Fitz moved towards the door.

“I’ll help you,” Jemma said, as she followed him out of the room. “I’m thinking maybe it would be better not to tell May anything,” she muttered to him as they walked down the hallway. “If she doesn’t remember, then there doesn’t seem to be a lot of point in upsetting her further.”

Fitz nodded in agreement. “Yeah, she’s angry enough as it is,” he conceded.

“Do you think we’ll still be able to get something?” Jemma asked him, as they made their out the door and down the steps. “Residual signatures from the circlets, I mean?”

Fitz shrugged. “I have no idea. But at this point, we have nothing else, so it’s worth a try.” He grabbed the cases from the back seat of the car, and passed one to Jemma, before slamming the door shut behind him.

The two of them ran back into the house and down the hall to the back room. Trip was still pacing, Scott and the fourth agent whose name Fitz had forgotten were watching him anxiously as they awaited their next order, and May was unsteadily trying to get to her feet, pushing away the glass of water that Agent O’Brien was attempting to proffer. (“I washed the glass and everything,” Fitz was amused to hear him moan at her.) The poor guy then got shouted at by Jemma not to let May up.  

“Don’t let her off that mattress, she needs time to recover from all the dendrotoxin in her system!” Jemma commanded him. O’Brien stopped in his tracks, gulping in fear at the death stare May was giving him. He turned to Jemma.

“I mean… it’s the Cavalry, Agent Simmons,” he began in a pleading tone.

“Don’t be afraid of her, she’s too weak to do anything,” Jemma commanded him, as she and Fitz began opening the cases and releasing the DWARFs. “Which is why she needs to rest,” she said with emphasis, looking over her shoulder to fix May with a stern look.

“I swear, Simmons…” May began through gritted teeth.

“I swear that I am your doctor and you are duty bound to follow my orders,” Jemma snapped back at her. “Stay on that mattress and rest until the Bus gets here and we get can you in a med pod…and drink your bloody water!” she yelled. May was shocked into compliance and Fitz raised his eyebrows in admiration of his girlfriend’s ferocity, before returning his attention to the task at hand.

“Okay,” Fitz said, staring at his tablet, “getting some electromagnetic readings now, Jemma. Nowhere near as strong as they were when the circlets were in Storch’s room in Malta. You getting any chemical signatures?”

“Trace,” Jemma said with a nod. “So they were definitely here, but…I don’t know, Fitz,” she went on, lowering her tablet and looking at him. “I feel like these readings would be much stronger if Ward had actually used the circlets.”

“I agree,” he replied with a nod. “I don’t think he used them here. I think he’s taken them somewhere else to do that.”

“I don’t understand,” Trip hissed through his teeth, his fists clenched in worried anger. “What is Ward playing at? If getting Skye and Lincoln to use the circlets on him is his endgame, then why hasn’t he done it yet? Where has he taken them? And why didn’t he take May?”

“Well, May’s a liability,” Fitz answered. “She’s just about the only person Ward is scared of, so I’m not surprised he wanted to take her out of the equation. They only needed her for her face and Skye and Lincoln’s location.”

“What? What are you talking about?” May demanded, her head snapping up. “I didn’t give him Skye and Lincoln’s location! And why would they need my face?!”

“Ugh, Fitz!” Jemma sighed in an undertone. “I’m going to have to tell her now.” Fitz made a grimace of apology.

“SO WHERE THE HELL IS HE NOW?” Trip yelled as he punched the wall beside him with the side of his fist. Everyone started in alarm, and Fitz resisted the impulse to throw a protective arm in front of Jemma. Trip didn’t mean any harm and he would have been mortified at the idea that he could hurt Jemma. Glancing at Jemma, Fitz could see her watching Trip with an anxious expression on her face.  Then her eyes flickered to meet his.

“Fitz,” she said, “you and Ward were friends once, you knew him better than anyone else here. Even May,” she added with a sideways look at where Ward’s former lover lay on the mattress. May raised her eyebrows in surprise at Jemma’s bringing up her past dalliance with their betrayer, but Fitz thought that May looked more impressed with Jemma’s bravery than anything else. Jemma’s eyes moved back to Fitz. “Where do you think he might have taken them?”

Fitz threw up his arms in despair. “I don’t know, Jemma! If I knew everything that went through Ward’s mind, then we wouldn’t be in this situation right now, would we?”

“But why move them at all?” Jemma insisted. “He wants them to use the circlets to read his mind, why not just do it here and be done with it?”

“That’s a good point,” Fitz conceded. He thought quickly. “Wait,” he said suddenly, as an idea occurred to him. “What has this whole thing been about? Ward wants Thomas – or Lincoln – to read his mind, to know that he never wanted to hurt him that day he threw him down the well. That day is Ward’s worst memory,” he said, his hands gesturing excitedly as he warmed to his theme. “It was hugely significant in his life – a turning point, the day he switched from victim to abuser. The thing about Ward that he’s never understood that he had a choice that day, or any day since. He thinks that everything that he’s done since then has just happened to him, that he’s not responsible for it. So he thinks if he can be forgiven for the well, then it erases everything in his past. And let’s face it, he’s always been a drama queen, he loves a bit of theatre. It makes sense to Ward that when Lincoln sees his thoughts about what happened that day, that he does so at the place it happened.”

“You think he’s taking them to that well?” Jemma asked.

“I do,” Fitz replied. “In fact, the more I think about it, the more I’m sure that’s what he’s going to do.”

“His story about the well was one of the first personal things about himself that he told Skye as well,” Jemma added, looking thoughtfully at Fitz. “They bonded over that story. I think he thought Skye understood him after that.”

“So it’s significant to their relationship as well,” Fitz agreed. “This is a symbolic thing for him, taking them both to that well.” He bobbed his head in a gesture of disbelief.  “What an egomaniacal prick!”

May made a noise of agreement from her mattress.

“Okay, so where is this well?” Trip asked. “We don’t know how much of a head start he’s got on us, we need to move.”

“All I know is that it’s somewhere near his family’s property in Massachusetts,” Fitz replied. “But if we can get to the house, Jemma and I can track the signatures of the circlets. That will lead us to them.”

“Alright,” Trip replied decisively, reaching for his phone. “I’m going to call the Bus, ask Bobbi and Coulson to pick us up. Everyone get ready to ship out.”


End file.
